Star TrekThe Reign: Hive Mind
by Lancereign
Summary: Thanks to Q, the crew of the Enterprise-D swaps universes with that of an entirely different crew. This is technically a crossover, but the second category isn't listed anywhere here. Looking for reviews.
1. Prologue

**STAR TREK/THE REIGN: HIVE MIND**

Fan fiction Crossover by Lance Berry(Before reading, you may wish to read my brief bio notes on this story)

PROLOGUE: THE BIG SWITCHEROO

Captain Jean-Luc Picard breathed a sigh of relief, mixed with exhaustion. Today concluded what his first officer had referred to as one of the more "interesting" days serving aboard the U.S.S. _Enterprise_. Just over two weeks earlier, the Federation's flagship had been called to an emergency evacuation of an entire planet in the Miaxta system, where the primary planet's life-giving star had unexpectedly begun to collapse upon itself, far ahead of its projected million-year schedule.

The Miaxtans, a hill-dwelling people who had only recently advanced to the level of technology once possessed by Earth circa the late 22nd Century, had a culture which did not entirely favor independent thought in specific categories such as the arts or sciences. They had what was known as a Prime in every major societal category, who would lead the way in advances of biology, chemistry, music, painting, political thought and others…creating new technologies and advances which others would follow and build upon, rather than being independently creative and branching out from said discoveries. This cycle would go on until the Prime reached a level of old age when it was time to retire, then independent thought would be favored for a decade, with the most intelligent and forward-thinking leader in their chosen field being posted to the position of the new Prime. Once elected, the cycle of doleful following would continue anew until that Prime reached retirement.

The problem which spurred the sudden evacuation of the planet was that the current astronomer Prime —who was nearing the age of retirement—had long ago determined that Miaxta had another million years of useful energy to gain from their star before it would begin the inexorable breakdown and collapse of its death knell. The Miaxtan astronomy Prime had made a mistake in his calculations though—a rather large one, forgetting to carry a 2, which led to more erroneous assumptions in his mathematics, which his ego never allowed him to see fit to recheck—thereby leading to a false belief that all was right with their sun. Once the star began its breakdown—solar flares causing intense heat around Miaxta and an abrupt melting of half their polar ice caps—the ruling council made an immediate call to the Federation, of which they had recently become a member, for help.

Seventy starships were immediately rerouted from routine patrols and other areas of non-immediate necessary involvement, to deal with the evacuation of Miaxta. As flagship commander, Captain Picard had been placed in charge of the rescue and moving the Miaxtans to twelve starbases within the closest proximity, with at least 30 of the starships under his command warping to twenty more starbases in other systems, in order to shelter the species until a more suitable permanent world could be found. Fortunately the Miaxtans were one of the less "bountiful" societies Picard had encountered, the majority of the peoples condensed onto only two of the five continents their planet had to offer. This made for a slightly easier evacuation which took just over two weeks working around the clock, the crews of each starship pressed to their limits. Yet in the end, the _Enterprise_ and its fleet were successful: the Miaxtans were safely away, and as the _Enterprise_ and its fleet warped away from the system this last time, three probes were left behind at strategically placed spots to witness the slow demise of the star and feed all scientific data back to Starfleet Command.

Now, as Picard slipped out of his red-and-black Starfleet uniform and slipped on an overlong nightshirt, he wondered what would happen to the astronomical Prime. He had been a proud man, Picard thought when he first met him at the officiating ceremony welcoming Miaxta into the Federation three years ago, but during the evacuation, the captain had seen what a broken, humbled person he had become. _Time and experience makes us all humble in the end_, Picard thought to himself as he sat on the edge of his bed in his comfortable stateroom. Yet he still felt some pity for the man, brought so low because of a careless mistake his own ego couldn't allow him to rectify.

"Computer," Picard said, glancing out his window at the casually passing stars outside as the _Enterprise_ traveled under low impulse power. The ship's computer—the smartest A.I. ever constructed by Federation scientists—answered with an affirming chirp. "Begin notes for next day." He paused, trying to recall the stardate as he gathered his thoughts. "Stardate: 43989.0. Send personal commendations via personal viewscreens to each member of the crew for their outstanding work during the evacuation. Have Mr. La Forge summarize for me those ideas he had for improving warp core efficiency. Promote sciences Chief Lieutenant DeFalco to full commander. Meet with Counselor Troi regarding…" he paused, trying to figure how best to phrase his meaning. "Regarding these…intuitions I've had recently. This…feeling of unease that possessed me, just before we began the evacuation of Miaxta. Mark this last as medium priority however, schedule for midday if possible."

He halted again, lost in thought. He had been feeling very uneasy lately, and without a discernable reason. The last few missions the _Enterprise_ had run before the Miaxtan evacuation had gone off without a hitch, and the crew was soon due for some scheduled shore leave. Yet for the last few weeks, Picard had an unnerving sense of dread roiling deep within his gut, that would catch him late at night as if a prowler had ambushed him unexpectedly in his room; a feeling that some deep, terrible storm was on the horizon, and he could just barely make out the flashes of lightning under the dark gathering clouds. He didn't like it, nor did he like the idea of seeing the ship's counselor, even though he considered Deanna Troi to be a good friend and close confidant. Jean-Luc Picard had always been adept at analyzing himself psychologically, in order to deal with whatever difficulties of heart and mind troubled him, so that he was able to push past any personal problems and deal with whatever task lay immediately at hand. It was the reason he had excelled at Starfleet Academy, and the reason he eventually earned the right to command the flagship of the Federation itself. Let lesser men go treat themselves in therapy.

_Or is that just ego talking?_ Picard thought to himself, as his earlier reflection on the humbling power of time and experience immediately came back to him. He chuckled aloud, and the computer politely asked him to restate this last bit. "Nothing, nothing," Picard replied, then added, "And one more thing: at 1600 hours, have a private dinner in Ten Forward for the senior staff, to thank them again for their exemplary work during the evacuation. End notes."

The computer answered with a confirming beep as it stated, "Notes for Stardate 43989.0 logged. They will be replayed as part of the morning itinerary reminder at 0830." The computer then switched itself off, allowing Picard to lay back and retreat to the comfort of his bed. As he pulled the covers up snugly to his chest, he smiled to himself as he thought about tomorrow night's dinner with the senior staff. _After all, it is nice to be told one's appreciated at some point_…he thought to himself, before the day's exhaustion overtook him and he fell completely asleep.

**ANOTHER UNIVERSE, ANOTHER TIME…**

Captain Travis Rand stepped into the main conference room aboard the _Horizon_, and nodded politely as his senior staff greeted him. The handsome, 35 year-old black man moved briskly to the far end of the rectangular table and took a seat. He glanced briefly out the window at the stars outside as the mighty Heavy Cruiser—flagship of the United Earth Force fleet—held position. It had been only two hours ago that their latest crisis had been resolved, and the captain wasn't happy with any aspect of the handling or resolution of it in the slightest. He turned his head forward, giving a quick onceover to his senior staff: First Officer Mara Christenson, security chief Tholin, chief engineer Jamie Hughes, and chief medical officer Ben Williams. At one time or another, he had trusted each of these people—as a group or individually—with his life, and they had entrusted theirs to him, both as captain and friend. That trust was still there, and hopefully always would be, but recent events had caused him to doubt the loyalties of at least one person not present.

Rand slapped the dsp(data storage pad) he had brought with him down on the table and leaned back in his chair. "Alright. Let's talk openly about what happened with the Calvorian youth, and how I don't _ever_ want something like this to happen again," the captain stated flatly, his already brown features darkening with simmering reserves of indignation. He turned to his security chief. "Lieutenant-Commander Tholin, I want you to start coming up with a new set of security protocols immediately, so that no one can ever stow away in any incoming transport crates again. I don't care how large or small a parcel is coming aboard—I want us to be able to detect _any_ life forms inside, no matter how low they can render their body temperature and respiration."

Tholin leaned forward, the lionoid alien lashing his tongue across his sharpened teeth before speaking. "I have already begun designing such protocols, Captain," he said in his naturally gruff voice, which sounded just slightly like stone rubbing against stone. The security chief—an outcast among his own people, ever since he defected from their side to that of UEF's at the height of the Earth-Calvorian War—was always two steps ahead when it came to thinking in terms of tactical strategy. "In fact, I am certain that once my designs are approved by you and incorporated into the ship's A.I. net, Earth Force itself will want to incorporate them into all their current and next generation ships of the line."

Rand nodded approvingly. "That's what I want to hear. I assume that your designs will include medical information on species you know about, but that might not be included in the UEF database, which Doctor Williams can add to his own files?"

"They will," the Calvorian answered assuredly, his greenish-yellow eyes flashing confidently. Doctor Williams, seated across from Tholin, cleared his throat lightly. "Something, Doctor?" the captain asked.

"Yes," Williams—a big, burly bear of a black man, in spite of his advancing years—replied, looking somewhat less confident than Tholin. "I'd like to remind the Captain that even after a foundation for understanding how Calvorian physiology works was attained post-war, UEF still hasn't been able to crack the technique Calvorians have for lowering their various bodily rates to a point simulating near-lifelessness while being able to retain full mobility. Even with Tholin's input, I don't see how we can expect to have a fully functional system that will allow us to detect occurrences like that."

"I have faith in you, Ben," Rand said somewhat dryly. He was in a foul mood following the resolution of the incident with the Calvorian youth that had snuck aboard his ship, and had no desire to brook disagreement with his plan to increase ship's security. "You and Tholin will work together, pull resources from any department you need, but I want that system working." Without waiting for an answer from Ben, he looked to Tholin once more. "Is the Diviner in the brig, as I ordered?"

Tholin nodded. "I placed him there myself, immediately after you told me to."

"What?!"

Rand turned to his left, looking into the shocked face of his first officer, Mara Christenson. The beautiful woman—widow of the _Horizon_'s previous captain, David Christenson, who had been a living legend in their own time—was raised in the strict faith of the Catholic Church, and Devon Bova, the ship's assigned Diviner, was spiritual advisor to both her and the other 951 crewmembers aboard the flagship. "Captain," the dark-haired woman said in as polite a tone as she could muster, "I understand you're upset over what Diviner Bova did. But he was acting on his best principles—"

"_I don't care_," Rand said sharply, cutting her off. "You know—_all_ of you know," the captain said with a brief glance at the rest of his senior staff, before turning back to Mara, "how I feel about the separation of Church and UEF law. I don't care how many billions of Unicreds the NCA spent to have Earth Force allow them to put chapels aboard our ships. I don't care whether Bova thought he was serving God, the All, the NCA or his own ego when he gave that boy sanctuary in the ship's chapel. The fact is that he took it upon himself to give shelter to an illegal alien who was not only a deserter from the Alliance's Cypher Division, but also a fugitive. And through those actions, placed this ship and its crew at the cutting edge of a potential new skirmish based on whether or not I could convince that boy to give himself up, when we only ended the entire war between our two species _not even a month ago_!" Rand slammed his fist down upon the table, making Jamie start. Mara's eyes widened in surprise, and Ben's narrowed as he observed the captain studiously. Travis Rand was a passionate man, but in any situation his staff had seen him in, no matter how stressful, he always managed to keep himself calm and collected.

This was highly uncharacteristic behavior for him, but only Tholin had the nerve to notice it publicly. "Captain…are you alright?"

Rand glanced at his tactical chief, but quickly looked away, his eyes focusing on the tabletop he had struck, before he exhaled heavily and sat up a little straighter. He had to reach deep down to find the stillness he had learned to access during his years practicing martial arts at the Academy, but he managed to calm himself just enough to find a civil tone before he addressed his fellow officers again. "Bova remains in the brig until tomorrow. That's all there is to it. Tholin and Ben will get to work on increasing the life sign database and security measures. Jamie, you will help them in any way necessary."

"Understood, Captain," the young engineer answered in a subdued tone, not wishing to incite him any further.

"We've all had a rough day, and it's late," Rand said after a moment. "Luckily third shift has taken over, so I suggest we all get some sleep. See you in the morning. Dismissed."

The _Horizon_'s senior officers shared brief, uneasy looks across the table, but all stood…except one. As the others filed out of the room silently, Rand exhaled again and looked over to find Ben still seated, an eyebrow raised in an expectant manner.

Rand waited until the others had left and the conference room doors closed before saying flatly, "I don't want to talk about it."

"I think you need to," the elder black man said. "I've never seen you like this. And I don't think it's what happened with that boy, Thara, that's bugging you. I think it has to do with what happened down on Earth."

Rand got to his feet and stood at the side of the conference table facing the windows. He leaned against the table, his back to Ben, as he stared at the stars outside. "I said I don't feel like talking about it."

"Yeah, okay," Ben answered dryly, and stood. He walked around the table toward Rand as he said, "I've known you for far too many years, my friend. I know that tone in your voice says you do _need_ to talk, even if you don't _want_ to."

Ben arrived at his friend's side. "Travis. What Carstairs did to you—"

"What Carstairs did to me was _wrong_," Rand said sharply. "It was wrong on every conceivable level, and it's made me do the one thing I've never done in all my years in Earth Force: doubt myself." He turned to Ben, and the doctor was shocked to find tears of anger at the corner of the captain's eyes. Ever since he had met Rand on Titan all those years ago, Ben Williams had only seen Travis Rand cry once…such things, such vulnerabilities and perceived weaknesses were for lesser men than him.

Rand gritted his teeth and grunted in annoyance as he dug his thumb knuckles into his eyes, getting rid of the offending evidence. When he was done, he looked out at the accumulation of foreign stars once more, avoiding Ben's gaze as he said, "How am I supposed to be certain now, that anything I do—_any_ action I take—is of my own free will? That the Venseshi didn't implant some command protocol into me from thousands of years in the past, seeing whatever moment I'm in?"

Ben rested what he hoped would be a comforting hand upon his friend's shoulder. "Travis…remember, I examined you too, once you told me everything. I found no evidence of genetic enhancement or manipulation in your body, and that's going down to a sub-atomic level. For all we know, the recording you found might have been some sort of ruse, used for…I dunno…whatever possible purpose they could use it for. Maybe…maybe the Venseshi are some race we're going to have to face off against in the _future_, and they did this because they wanted to throw you off, make you doubt yourself at a critical time. Buddy, we don't know…"

"You're reaching, Ben," Rand said, but chuckled as he did so. "I appreciate it, but you're reaching, and we both know it. When I found that recording on New Acrea, every word felt _truthful_, right! Those aliens did something to me, reached down into my genetic lineage, to—"

"To produce the perfect human being, to fight some ancient darkness that's supposedly on its way?" Ben completed the sentence for him. Travis had told him all about the recording that had addressed the captain personally on New Acrea, once he had managed to shut off the device that was threatening to open a destructive portal to the dawn of time. Ben didn't doubt his friend in the slightest; he simply doubted the veracity of the circumstances. "Travis, I hate to tell you this, but you are _far_ from the perfect human!" He said this with a good-natured snicker, hoping to lighten his friend's mood.

It didn't work. Rand slipped his shoulder away and stood to face him. "When's the last time I had a cold, Ben? When's the last time I came to sickbay for help with an upset stomach, or a virus, or any one of a million different ailments I could have as a normal human being?"

The doctor had no answer for that. Aside from the shattered leg he had once treated Rand for—which was received in the line of duty—the younger man's medical record was beyond impeccable, dating back to when he was a child. Rand nodded slowly, his own questions unintentionally answered by the chief medical officer's silence. Before Ben could think of anything else to say, Rand turned sharply on his heel and left the room.

Deck 12 of the _Horizon_ was one of eight decks housing crew quarters. However, this deck was often referred to unofficially as the "Officers' Deck", since all quarters for the command staff were placed here. As Rand entered his room, the lights came up automatically. He stood silently a moment as the door glided shut behind him, and glanced around his regulation size room: one bed, a desk with chair and vid-com, recycle dump-shoot mounted to the wall and a closet and bathroom to the side. Rand took off his black uniform jacket and shirt, tossed them over the back of the chair, and sat down on the edge of his bed. He focused on pulling off his black uniform boots and pants, attempting to drain all thought of the day out of his mind.

With a light sigh, he stood once more, pulling down his covers as he said aloud, "Computer. How many briefing messages do I have for the morning?"

The ODC(Omni-Directional Comlink) gave off a responsive chime before the smartware answered in a pleasantly feminine voice, "You have seventeen briefing memos for the date of January 23rd, 2194, Captain. You also have one personal message stored from Commander Christenson, sent eight minutes ago."

"Dump the one from Mara, I'll speak to her tomorrow," Rand ordered as he sat on the bed once more, then began to slip under the covers. "Store briefing messages until the morning, standard wake time of 0650." He laid down fully, clearing his throat once, then ordered, "Lights off." The ODC answered with its distinctive chime once again, and Rand exhaled as the lights in his quarters doused fully, and he forced the stress from his body as he drifted away almost instantly into the calmness of a dreamless sleep…

**GOOD MORNING?**

Jean-Luc Picard had overslept. He could feel it, as he pulled himself out from under the shroud of a long, lazy sleep. For some reason, the _Enterprise_'s computer failed to wake him as it usually did at his appointed time. He would have to figure out why, perhaps get Geordi La Forge to check on it. Yet as he sat up, a curious sensation overtook him, and he began moving his arms down his body, taking stock. He felt his comm-badge, his pants, the boots on his feet—for some reason, he was fully dressed in his Starfleet uniform while in bed!

Picard cleared his throat as he tossed aside the covers and sat up, now realizing as he threw his legs over the side of the mattress that his bed felt a bit stiffer than normal, and his boots came down with a mild –clunk!- on an uncarpeted floor. "Computer, lights!" He ordered, and the ship's systems answered with an unfamiliar chime as the lights came up automatically…and Picard's mouth dropped open in unpleasant surprise.

This wasn't his stateroom aboard ship. In fact, this room was completely unfamiliar to him, as no such design was aboard the _Enterprise_ at all! He looked around, taking stock of the room, sparsely decorated indeed with a desk, chair, comm-screen of some sort. A small restroom, a closet with unfamiliar clothing in it, and a strange type of contraption on the wall. Turning around, he saw a poster of Earth hanging on the wall beside the bed. The words "For Freedom" hung above the planet, and "Forever" beneath. Picard looked around warily at the room once more…it was at least two times smaller than the standard stateroom aboard a starship, and seemed built for functionality only.

"Computer," Picard said cautiously, the unfamiliar chime sounding once more as he got to his feet, glancing down to confirm that he was indeed in his full uniform, "Where am I? Is this some type of holodeck simulation?"

"Please re-state your first question," this feminine voice, sounding far more sensual than businesslike as his own ship's computer, answered. "The term 'holodeck' is not stored anywhere in UEF archives."

Picard's brow furrowed quizzically. "'UEF'? What does that mean?"

The unfamiliar chime again, followed swiftly by the reply: "UEF: United Earth Force. The military government instated on planet Earth on Friday, December 15th, 2124."

Picard's eyes widened slightly. _United Earth Force?_ He thought, trying to gather his thoughts about the situation he was in while simultaneously analyzing the bits of information he was being given. _2124—the __22__nd__Century__?_ This last thought came to him with a bit of alarm, as he realized now he was two centuries out of his proper time period!

He exhaled, trying to remain calm. "Computer…what is the current starda—" he stopped himself. _If a simple term like holodeck isn't stored in this computer's memory, then obviously it_ _won't know what a stardate is_, Picard quickly realized, then offered instead, "What is the current date?"

The odd chime sounded once more. "The current date is Tuesday, June 8th, 2190." There was a sharp double-buzz from the computer, which startled Picard. "Why are you asking these questions?" the machine demanded, a more authoritative tone in its synthesized voice.

_Security measures_, Picard assessed immediately. _It realizes I'm not this room's occupant,_ _and_ _is trying to determine whether or not to call security…well, whatever type of security_ _exists here,_ _wherever 'here' is._ Thinking quickly, Picard answered, "I'm…a guest…here. I've simply lost track of time. _Not exactly a lie_, Picard thought, _and far more truth to it than even I currently know, to_ _be sure._

The computer did not reply to Picard's statement, nor did it set off any alarms or make any audible calls for security. Picard was relieved, but not by much; he still had to figure out where he was. He felt a bit more relief when his comm-badge sounded for an incoming communiqué, and the familiar voice of his first officer, Will Riker, queried, "Riker to Picard! Do you read me, Captain?"

Picard tapped his badge with an over-eagerness he tried to quell immediately. "Picard here. Good to hear your voice, Number One. Where are you?"

"I'm in the corridor, sir. I'm assuming you're in one of the crew quarters. You might want to come out here and join us."

It hadn't been until that very moment that Picard had even realized the room had a door leading elsewhere. He took a breath, exhaled lightly, and replied, "I'm on my way." He stepped forward, still somewhat surprised that the computer did not bar his egress; instead, the door slid aside easily, allowing him to step out of the room--and into a morass of confusion…

Crewmen from the _Enterprise_ filled the narrow corridor from one end to the other, wall to wall. Almost all of them were tapping their comm-badges, trying to reach other crewmembers in an attempt to ascertain their safety. Several of his people crowded around Picard as soon as they saw him, a look of panic on many of their faces which he found highly disconcerting as they bombarded him with questions, the only answers he could find to give being either "I don't know" or "We are trying to assess the situation accordingly."

"Come to attention! Clear a path!"

The booming voice thundered through the corridor from one end and echoed almost all the way to the other. The semi-panicked chatter of the _Enterprise_ crewmembers died down to a dull warble as Picard found himself almost smiling at the sound of his Klingon security officer's voice. He turned and saw surely enough that it was Worf, leading a path through the crowd, shoulder-to-shoulder with Will Riker. Behind the two men followed Counselor Deanna Troi, chief engineer Geordi La Forge, Lieutenant-Commander Data and Dr. Beverly Crusher, holding hands with her young son, Ensign Wesley Crusher. To Picard, it seemed more as if Wesley were holding his mother's hand to give her emotional support than the other way around, though the doctor put on a very confident façade.

Riker did choose to smile at his captain—a smile of relief, though there was some underlying apprehension beneath. "It's good to see you, sir," Riker said. "When I woke up in the first officer's quarters, I thought at first I was either dreaming or having a very lucid nightmare. But after locating Worf and the others, I was at least relieved to find we were all together."

"The sentiment is shared, Number One, most definitely," Picard replied, then glanced around briefly at the dull grey metal walls of the relatively narrow corridor. Picard again had the idea that this path was built more for functionality than comfort. "You mentioned you woke up in the first officer's quarters? So we are aboard a ship?"

"Most definitely, sir," Geordi chimed in. "The motion of the _Enterprise_ is difficult to ascertain on a personal level, with our cushioned floors. But on this ship, you can feel the vibration through the metal deck plates."

And now that La Forge had mentioned it and Picard gave himself a moment to become aware of the ever-present vibration in the metal flooring, he realized he could tell they were aboard a ship. "But what ship are we on, and where are we?"

"We are aboard the United Earth Force Heavy Cruiser _Horizon_, sir," Data responded this time, the same detached matter-of-fact calmness present now, as it always was, in his android voice. "It was launched from the Hephaestus Shipyards orbiting Mars on Monday, September 11th, 2180. It carries a crew complement of 952; thirty-seven officers and 915 enlisted personnel. It is the flagship of the UEF fleet in this universe."

"In _this_ universe?" Crusher repeated, trying valiantly to conceal the worry she felt from her voice.

Picard nodded. "Apparently, Doctor, we are indeed in the 22nd Century of another universe or parallel dimension. To be blunt, we're not in Kansas anymore." Picard was abruptly aware of the closeness of the rest of his crewmen and women, pressing in as they attempted to listen to the senior officers' dialogue and learn more of their situation. The captain held his hands up to quiet down whatever lingering chatter there was in the corridor, and his crew faithfully followed his instruction. He cleared his throat and said in as calm a voice as he could manage while speaking loudly enough to be heard:

"I understand how disconcerting this is to all of you. None of us truly knows what's going on, how we got here, or why. All I can ask from each of you is that you remain the consummate professionals I know you to be, so that we can continue to look out for each other, while finding a way out of this situation. Listen to the senior staff as if this was nothing more than a routine procedure, and I promise you, we will get home."

The speech had the desired effect, as several personnel nodded in deference to the captain's orders. Picard gestured for the senior staff to follow him, and he led the way through the parting crowd to a door at the end of the corridor, which was relatively isolated. The door opened as the captain drew close however, and to Picard's surprise, it turned out to be a lift. With a brief, cautious glance inside, Jean-Luc stepped in, followed by the others.

As the door closed behind them, Picard exhaled lightly and looked them over once: although stoic expressions covered most of their faces, he could tell they were just as anxious as he about the situation, and that most if not all had come to the same conclusion as he had:

"Q" Picard said darkly, dropping the letter, word, name, cursed utterance, like a stone into a still pond.

There were several affirming nods. "But why?" Wesley blurted, his teen voice cracking slightly as some mild panic seeped through.

"Since when does Q need a reason to do what he does?" Troi answered, then looked to Picard. "Captain…since we're here, if this 'here' is indeed real, then obviously the _Horizon_'s crew is in our universe and time, aboard our ship."

"I agree, Counselor. The only problem is, they haven't a clue as to whom or what they're dealing with. We at least have a slight advantage, though it can't be said it's much of one."

"We should discuss tactical options," Worf said brusquely. "We need to figure out why Q sent us here, what he wants, and what his end game is."

"I agree, but first things first," Riker said, then eyed the captain. "We need to get the crew calm, then find a way to override this ship's A.I. I was able to ask basic questions, but I could tell the ship's smart enough that it was beginning to realize I wasn't a member of the crew. We can't afford to put our people at risk, not knowing what kind of self-defense protocols this ship has in place for dealing with intruders. For all we know, it could shoot poison gas out of the air ducts."

Picard raised an eyebrow. "I would hope that the so-called 'UEF' wouldn't go to such Machiavellian lengths to protect their ship, but I concur with your assessment, Number One. The same thing happened to me when I tried a discourse—"

A chime sounded in the lift, startling all. "Sixty seconds have elapsed. Please state a destination floor," the sensual female voice stated, though a bit harshly.

"Look, just give us a minute," Geordi said impatiently, then corrected, "Give us _another_ minute." There was no reply from the ship, and so they figured they had been granted their requested grace period.

Picard addressed them all, now speaking slightly faster, in order to hurry things along before their respite was up and they were greeted with lord-knows-what. "I want each of you to take a different deck, locate and organize our people. We need to find out if only Starfleet personnel were brought aboard, or their families as well. Wesley—" Picard said to the young ensign, whom he had gradually come to trust during his brief few years aboard ship, "For now, I want you to stay with Beverly. Once we've determined who's here among our people, it will be your job alone to gather together and watch over the families, as Doctor Crusher will be needed with us. Do whatever's necessary to keep them and their children calm. If we run into any danger while we're here—"

"Which we assuredly will, if Q has his way," Worf grumbled, not too subtly.

Picard ignored the comment as he continued, "—keeping these families safe will be a top priority."

Wesley nodded. "I understand, Captain."

"Once we've got our people calmed and situated," the captain said, addressing the entire senior staff once more, "Data and Geordi will attempt to interface the Lieutenant-Commander's neural net with the ship's computer, to see if we can access and override its security functions so we can find out exactly where we are and how to get moving safely."

"Captain," Data spoke up, "It is entirely possible that my neural net may be far too advanced to successfully interface with such primitive technology."

"He's right, Captain," Geordi acceded. "Failing that, I'll probably have to try an end-runaround the ship's entire A.I. net to weaken its security infrastructure and learn how to give us access. That may take days or weeks."

"Possibly," Picard reluctantly agreed. "Then again, we're assuming this technology is 'primitive' simply because of what we're used to working with, and because we know what time period we're in within _this_ reality. For all we know, their 22nd Century tech might be the equal to ours. I'm hoping for the latter, since that will make our task much easier."

"Do you really think that's possible, sir?" Riker asked.

Picard nodded. "One thing about Q; annoying trickster he may be, but no matter what scenario he's put us in, he's always given us some type of fighting chance. Capricious, but fair…to a degree. We'll just have to see what happens."

The chime again. "Sixty seconds have elapsed. Please state a floor destination."

"Bridge," Picard answered easily and without hesitation. The lift began to ascend, and he told his crew, "I may as well see how the other half lives. In the meantime, you all know your assignments. Get things started, and we'll reconvene on the bridge in thirty minutes."


	2. Chapter 1

**STAR TREK/THE REIGN: HIVE MIND**

Fan fiction Crossover by Lance Berry

This first chapter is a little bit of a slow build-up as it establishes the two crews becoming familiar with their surroundings. I hope you like it though…

CHAPTER 1: IF I HAD A HAMMER…

The doors to the lift leading to the _Enterprise_ bridge opened up, and Captain Travis Rand and his senior staff stepped out, gazing in wonder at the spacious bridge, which was at least a full half-size larger than their own aboard the _Horizon_.

"Looks like a living room," Mara commented, taking note of the open spaces and ample standing room between the three command chairs and the helm/navigational consoles.

"Cushy," Tholin agreed, an obvious distaste in his voice as he moved apart from the others, immediately sizing up the various consoles at the bridge's rear. "I thought you humans had things easy aboard our ship, until I woke up in one of the hotel beds here." Calvorians were known as a harsh race, taking pleasure in few creature comforts, as they believed such things were a distraction from maintaining a rigid posture of readiness for combat at any time. Calvorians were the fiercest warriors in the galaxy, and humans had been only the second race in history to stand against them in any sustained conflict. The Earth-Calvorian War had lasted 72 years, and was only brought to an end through the actions of the _Horizon_ and its crew.

"Alright," Rand spoke up as he continued taking stock of the bridge. "We've all come to the conclusion this isn't a dream or mass hallucination. Near as we can tell, our entire crew is aboard this ship, this _Enterprise_, with us. We have no idea how we got here, and there's no force that we know of that's capable of doing this. But we need to find out what's going on, and how to get back to our own time. " He paused thoughtfully a moment, then said to the ship's comm, "Rand to crew—"

An assertive _**–breep!-**_ from the ship's computer cut him off as the businesslike feminine voice said, "You are not authorized to use the comlink in such manner."

_I'm really getting sick of that_, Rand thought to himself, then turned to his crew. "Jamie, Tholin—we need to find a way around this," he said as he jabbed a thumb toward the ceiling, "and fast! I want the both of you in engineering, finding a way to dump this ship's command codes and install our own so we can be in charge."

"Travis, with all respect to Tholin and Jamie," Ben said, "If we're to believe the little bit of intel we've been able to find out, we're in the _24__th__ Century_! Getting a handle on this technology may be beyond them…beyond any of us!"

Rand considered his old friend's words carefully, then moved to stand before Jamie and Tholin. "Tholin, you're the best code breaker the Alliance has ever turned out. Jamie, you're the smartest human being that's ever lived."

"Well, one of…" the young chief engineer said bashfully, her face blushing slightly at the captain's compliment. Although it was true she was one of the rare breed of humans whose IQ was so high it couldn't be measured, Jamie never made a point to bring it up, as such an accomplished intellect as hers had actually managed to isolate her from the majority of social interaction with "average" humans throughout her life. Throughout her 21 years, being special, it turned out, had never made her feel special.

"The point is," Rand continued, "Do either of you think you can't do this?"

A low growl emanated from Tholin's throat, as the Calvorian tactical chief never shied away from a challenge of any kind. Jamie's left eyebrow raised slightly, signaling that she was also intrigued by the captain's dare. "We're on it, sir!" she said enthusiastically, and the duo headed to the lift, the doors of which closed behind them as the tube shunted them to their destination.

Rand looked to the rest of his staff. "Ben, you need to find Diviner Bova and help him locate all our crew and do whatever it takes to keep them calm until we can figure out what's going on." The captain glanced at Mara. "Much as I hate to admit it, the man is good at getting people to listen and get them organized." He looked back at Ben. "Get to it."

Ben Williams nodded and headed for the lift. He stepped in, his face scrunching up thoughtfully as he suddenly considered the enormous task of searching deck-by-deck for one man among 952 personnel, since he couldn't use the _Enterprise_'s computer to locate him.

"What about me?" Mara asked as the lift doors closed behind the doctor.

"I need you up here on the bridge with me," Rand answered, then spread his arms wide to gesture at all the various consoles. "We need to figure out what these systems are, what they do, and how to gain control access to them…hopefully without blowing ourselves up in the process."

Mara nodded in agreement. The two split up—she checking out the consoles at the bridge's rear, and he heading down the walkway ramp to the two consoles at the front of the bridge, set into the floor just before the viewscreen. The screen showed an image of stars, but none of them were familiar to Rand. Although he couldn't feel the deck plates vibrate beneath his feet, he assumed from the static positioning of the stars that the _Enterprise_ was holding position.

"Well, this is fairly straightforward," Mara called out to him from the rear. Rand turned partway to face her. "What is?"

"These panels are all labeled," she replied, pointing out a couple of the aft stations as she said, "Science I, Science II. Environmental, engineering. Jamie probably could've taken control of ship's functions from here."

Rand nodded. "Probably, but I want her working in the guts of this ship, getting to _know_ it. We need as full an understanding of what we're getting into as possible."

"Agreed," Mara stated, then asked, "What info were you able to get out of the ship's computer before it cut you off?"

"We're aboard the U.S.S. _Enterprise_, registry NCC-1701-D. Fifth 'starship' to bear the name, commissioned by Starfleet Command, which is the military branch of what's called the United Federation of Planets. Built at the Utopia Planitia Fleet Yards orbiting Mars, and launched on October 4th, 2363. Captained by one Jean-Luc Picard, first officer William T. Riker. That's about it."

Mara nodded. "I got basically the same thing. I searched for ships named _Horizon_, and found they did have one 'starship' named such, but it was lost in 2168 after visiting some planet I'd never heard of." She turned more fully to Rand, leaning cautiously on the tactical console—being careful not to press any control panels as she did—and a look of piqued interest crossed her face. "United Federation of Planets? Wasn't that one of the names the various planetary leaders in our own time thought of, but crossed off the list, before they joined as the League of Allied Worlds?"

"You're right," Rand answered, and stroked his chin thoughtfully. "So maybe, somehow, we are in our own future…maybe the League has grown into this Federation, and our Heavy Cruiser designs have changed significantly. " He gestured at the wide space between the command chairs and forward consoles as he said, "It might look like a living room, but I have to say, I find it a little more welcoming than our own bridge."

Mara couldn't help it; a wistful smile spread across her face as she marveled aloud, "So the peace between Earth and the Calvorian Alliance lasted. Everything we've gone through, everything we've suffered…it wasn't in vain."

Mara's smile was infectious, and Rand found himself answering with a smile of his own, "Looks like. If this is the direction our future took, then it's all worth it."

**MEANWHILE, BACK AT THE RANCH…**

"Well, one thing's for sure: these chairs aren't as comfortable as ours," Counselor Troi said only half-jokingly, as she took a seat on the right side of the table in the _Horizon_'s Conference Room A. "And I have to say, now that I know this ship's gravity operates on the principle of centrifugal rotation," she added with a quick nod to one of the two large bay windows, where the stars floated by slowly in a downward motion, "I think I'm getting a little space-sick."

Seated beside her, Doctor Crusher reached over and patted Deanna's hand. "Now that I've seen the sickbay, I can give you something for that, if you'd like," she said with a playful wink. "Their medicines aren't quite as advanced as ours, but I'm sure there's something that'll do the trick."

"All right, then," Picard said, tugging downward on his shirt as he automatically took a seat at the head of the table, "Let's get down to business." He briefly glanced over his team: Counselor Troi, Doctor Crusher and Data were seated to his right, while Riker and Worf were on his left. There was an empty seat beside the Klingon security chief, as Geordi La Forge was standing beside a wall-mounted viewscreen at the room's far end. There were dsp's, found in a locker within the conference room, placed on the table in front of each officer. It had been about five hours since Picard and his crew had found themselves aboard this strange ship, but they had managed to get the "lay of the land" so to speak, within that time.

"Let's go over our current status," Picard said and looked to Will. "The crew? Have we accounted for everyone?"

Riker nodded assuredly. "Apparently, Q saw fit to transfer everyone—Starfleet personnel and their families—aboard the _Horizon_. So basically, we have 1,013 people fit into a space designed for 952. Fortunately, there are spare quarters on deck 33, with four beds to a room. Ensign Crusher is assigning families to those rooms first, with secondary crew personnel to the remaining spaces."

Picard nodded, somewhat pleased. "Very good. Counselor, what's the prevailing mood amongst the crew at the moment?"

"Apprehension, which is to be expected. Some of the more experienced Starfleet personnel who've been aboard our ship longer have begun to figure out that Q is the most likely reason for our being here, so there's some simmering anger as well. We need to watch that carefully, so no one unintentionally lashes out at anyone else in frustration. There's some fear among the smaller children aboard at suddenly being placed in such unfamiliar surroundings, but I believe their parents should be able to quell that, if only a bit."

Picard huffed lightly in annoyance. "I don't appreciate the fact that Q has placed families in jeopardy as well as the rest of us. I intend to let him know that, when he finally chooses to show himself."

"Have you tried summoning Q, Captain?" Doctor Crusher asked. "Calling out to him, or…"

"How, Doctor?" Picard replied, irked at the suggestion. "Short of falling on my knees and praying his name aloud—which I'm sure would delight our mischievous troublemaker to no end, and which I will _never_ give him the satisfaction of doing—you know as well as I that Q will appear only when he's good and ready."

"Captain," Data said softly, "Have you considered the possibility that perhaps Q is not responsible for our current predicament?"

Picard's brow furrowed in puzzlement. "Explain."

"We have on occasion, encountered other life-forms with powers similar to Q, if not directly rivaling his own. There was Nagilum, who we met during our star-mapping mission near the Morgana Quadrant. There was Kevin Uxbridge, the Douwd whom we encountered at the ruins of the Delta Rana IV colony—"

"Very insightful as always, Mr. Data," Picard cut in. "But none of those beings had Q's penchant for reckless mischief. And I would consider Nagilum to be a malevolent entity, at the least. No, I'm certain this is Q whom we're dealing with. This is his handiwork signature down to a T."

"So what do we do now, sir?" Worf asked.

"We collate what we've learned so far. Mister La Forge--?"

Geordi tabbed a panel on the viewscreen, which activated immediately. A picture of a stylized eagle with multicolored lines behind it appeared on the screen. "As you theorized, Captain, this technology—while being the product of 22nd Century tech from this universe—isn't as primitive as Data or I initially thought. I'd say the level of sophistication here is on par with anything from the latter half of the 23rd Century in our reality. The information you see here will also play out on your personalized pads in front of you, by the way."

Picard and the others glanced down at their dsp's. As Geordi had said, the stylized eagle was reproduced on each. Geordi clasped his hands together as he addressed the group: "Using a linkup with Data's neural net down in engineering, we were able to successfully interface with the _Horizon_'s computer, and install in it falsified orders from UEF Command, stating that the ship had been assigned a new crew and captain. Once we're done with this briefing, everyone here will need to state their name, rank and serial number, in order to lock in their command status and have access to the ship's full archives and functions."

"Understood," Picard replied, a light exhalation escaping his nostrils. He was pleased his two officers had managed to get a handle on the situation in such a brief span of time.

"The _Horizon_ has an extremely sophisticated 'smartware' system, Captain, as it is called here," Data offered. "Its A.L.A.N.—Autonomic Learning Algorithmic Nuances—are only a few steps down from a positronic net such as my own. It took three separate attempts by Geordi and I to successfully navigate through the hundreds of secure codes stored within the ship's computer mainframe in order to get to this point."

"That is pretty substantial," Riker commented. "And your efforts are appreciated, Data. Geordi--?"

Geordi tabbed a panel on the screen's side and several images began to progress. "The _Horizon_ is the most powerful ship ever built by human beings in this reality. It's commanded by a senior staff of five, led by Captain David Christenson, regarded by many as a near living legend. I checked over his resume briefly…it's quite impressive. Anyway, this is a war ship we're on, armed to the teeth with energy rammers, antimatter torpedoes, a rail gun, and over five hundred laser emitters set into the vessel's outer hull."

"Laser emitters--?" Worf snorted derisively.

Geordi shook his head. "I wouldn't scoff at these, Worf. They're called lasers, because that's the tech term these people identify with. But if pressed to the task, this ship could go toe-to-toe with a Galaxy-class ship, even if only for a little while. Their lasers are almost as powerful as our phasers, and this ship could easily destroy a planet, if it had to."

There were looks of shock from around the table. "My god…" Deanna exclaimed, "What kind of people are these? Is this other universe a conquering one, like the Terran Empire?"

"No, they're not," Geordi assured her. "From what Data and I gathered by accessing the ship's history files, these humans had to adapt—quickly—to an unexpectedly harsh universe,

when the Calvorian Alliance tried to conquer them at the beginning of the century."

"Calvorian Alliance--?" Crusher prodded.

"A conquering species, native to this reality," Data replied, addressing first her, then all of them. "The Calvorians are a brutally warlike species, intent on conquering all worlds within their purview. As far as is known, their society is based on little more than the desire to allocate more celestial territory."

Riker cocked his head in puzzlement. "There aren't more detailed files on this species?"

Data shook his head. "The United Earth Force has very limited intelligence on the Alliance's societal structure, troop strength, or movements of its fleet, in spite of the fact the two sides have been at war for seven decades. I believe the expression 'playing it close to the vest' most uniquely sums up the Calvorian mindset, at least in this case."

"I would also tend to stress a certain urgency with getting our crew familiarized with this ship's systems, Captain," La Forge said. "Because wherever the _Horizon_'s current position is within this universe, Q placed us here right in the middle of the Earth-Calvorian conflict. These people are at war."

Picard's eyes widened in realization. "Then I'd say this briefing is tabled, for the moment," Picard stated weightily. "Let's all get our command codes input to the ship's computer, and find out what the _Horizon_'s current tactical status is. We need to be ready for anything."

**IN THE 24****th**** CENTURY…**

"I have to say, I am _really_ liking this ship, Captain," Jamie exclaimed with a smile as she and the other _Horizon_ staff members took seats around the conference table aboard the _Enterprise_-D. It had been just over four hours since she and Tholin had begun familiarizing themselves with the starship's systems, and the newness of the technology had proven an invigorating thrill for Jamie's intellect and Tholin's skill at code-breaking.

Travis Rand took a seat at the head of the table and briefly glanced over his senior staff: Mara and Tholin sat on his right, while Jamie and Ben sat to his left. "And what is it about this ship that pleases you so much, Jamie?"

Jamie jumped out of her chair, looking for all the world like an excited kid about to open her first present on Christmas day, as she headed toward the wall-mounted viewscreen. "Well for one thing, this ship is a marvel of design simplicity," she said as she activated the screen and a schematic of the starship appeared. "Much like the _Horizon_, power distribution is controlled and shared through the emission of energy from the engines. Whereas ours are fusion, these people call theirs 'warp engines'. Rather than create artificial wormholes to tunnel through hyperspace, they use what's called a 'warp drive' to physically push the ship through space. The _Enterprise_'s engines accomplish this through the controlled annihilation of matter and antimatter collision. "

"Didn't our scientists try something like that when Heavy Cruisers were first being constructed?" Mara asked.

Jamie shook her head lightly. "That was one of the options being considered, but at the time scientists didn't have enough of a handle on how to successfully control the reaction—or to process antimatter safely aboard a mobile ship—without endangering the lives of the crews. That's why we went in the direction of artificial wormholes and gravitational null-fields."

Rand nodded and glanced at Tholin. "What about the tactical aspects of this ship, and the situations it's encountered? What's going on at this point in history?"

"The _Enterprise_ is one of thousands of ships of various classes within the military and explorative branch of Starfleet, which is a subdivision of the United Federation of Planets. The Federation was officially founded in 2161, and currently has more than 150 worlds within this union." Tholin paused a moment, his eyes sliding between Mara and Rand. "Captain…I know you and the Commander explained how hopeful you both are that this is our future. Yet it is not. I have made a thorough search of all historical records pertaining to the events of our time. This Federation is _not_ an outgrowth of the League of Allied Worlds. In fact, there is no mention of Captain David Christenson, Travis Rand, any of us or _anyone_ we know within our time."

Rand and Mara shared a disappointed look, but Mara seemed more crestfallen as she bowed her head slightly. Her late husband was the great love of her life, a passion uncontested. To think that there was no record of his very existence--!

"Then we're…what?...in another reality?" Ben posed the question, but it became immediately apparent to all that this was a statement of fact.

Jamie nodded slowly in acquiescence, then addressed them all: "Scientists from various worlds have theorized for years on the existence of alternate realities—realities that generally tend to splinter off from our own at key points, thus following a different flow of history. Yet some in the field have pounced upon the idea of what's known as 'parallel realities'—an entire universal, dimensional reality existing near our own, but with its own completely different history. In effect, it's no less real than our own, and is probably separated by a universal buffer from what we see around us."

"Jamie, between the four years of medical school, three years of residency and more time clocked on the field, I've had to amass a lot of information," Ben said, tapping his temple with a finger. "But you're making my head hurt! So you're saying we're not in some kind of alternate reality--?"

"No. An alternate reality would be an offshoot of our own timeline. We'd have quantifiable evidence of certain historical events we'd be aware of, with the accepted changes to how our history played out." She took a breath, then with her gaze focused mostly on Rand, she said gravely, "This is an entirely new reality, which means not only that finding the way back to ours is an unknown factor…but that finding a path back to the reality we know may be impossible."

Rand was taken aback by Jamie's proclamation, but he quickly regained his composure. "That's not going to happen," he said, with a meaningful look to his people. "We've pulled off the impossible before. This is just one more trick for us to master."

"On the plus side," Tholin spoke up, "Chief Hughes and I did manage to override this ship's computer and security systems. We placed the ship's computer into an initial test mode, to make it think it was undergoing a refit at Utopia Planitia, then brought it back up online in standard mode. I have input command codes for each of you, and so we now have full control of all this vessel's systems."

No sooner did Tholin finish informing the others, than the ship's ODN gave off a beep. Jamie turned to the viewscreen and tabbed in a couple commands. Her eyes widened and she looked to Rand. "We're receiving an incoming signal…from Starfleet Command."

Rand sat up a little straighter in his chair and exhaled. "Well, I guess we've gained control of this ship just in time." He gestured to Jamie. "Let's see it."

Jamie tabbed another panel on the screen's side. The logo of the Federation appeared briefly, but was quickly replaced by the image of a silver-haired man with a slightly receding hairline, in a definitively Starfleet uniform. "Jean-Luc, we—" The man stopped abruptly, and stared in surprise as his eyes took in the sight of Rand and his senior staff, sitting in the proper chairs of the _Enterprise_ crew. "Who in the hell are you people, and where is Captain Picard and his staff!"

Rand got to his feet. He didn't appreciate being addressed so brusquely, but he understood the reason why, and was determined to attempt to respect the chain of command—even if this wasn't his military, or his universe. "My name is Travis Rand, sir. May I ask to whom it is I'm speaking?"

The elder man considered the question and the demeanor of the man asking it for only a moment before replying, "I am Admiral Hanson, of Starfleet. And just why is it, Mr. Rand, that you and I are even having this conversation?"

"That's _Captain_ Rand, Admiral Hanson." Chain of command or not, Travis was determined to retain the address of his rank. "As for why we're here…let me see if I can explain this, since I haven't fully wrapped my mind around it…"

It took Rand only about five minutes to explain everything. For his part, Hanson listened without interrupting, nodding a couple of times as Rand laid out the sequence of events leading to this moment. When he was done, Hanson nodded once more, then said only one thing:

"Q."

Rand blinked in puzzlement. "I'm sorry, Admiral…what--?"

"Q, Captain Rand. It's a bit hard to explain, but Q is a being from another reality known only to us as the Q Continuum. He hails from a race of beings with extraordinary powers, which you and I couldn't even fully begin to fathom. Do they have Norse mythology in your reality, Captain Rand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then liken him to the trickster god, Loki. Q's emotional state is mercurial: malevolent, irascible, giddy, humorous, reckless, deadly…all of those words and their full definitions fit him perfectly. Captain Picard—the great man whose ship you've unintentionally appropriated—has had more than his fair share of dealings with him over the years. Q has meddled in Starfleet affairs several times, but he couldn't have chosen a worse time than now."

Rand's ears pricked up at this last statement. "What's the problem, Admiral?"

Hanson sat back in his chair, regarding Rand silently a moment. "You are a soldier, through and through, loyal to the core, aren't you, Captain? I can see it in you…that fire, that eagerness to serve. The problem is, this is not your affair. Forty starships are about to converge at Wolf 359 to do battle with one of the little menaces Q has seen fit to toss us in the path of before. They're called the _Borg_, Captain…and today, of all days, I _needed_ Jean-Luc Picard, because he's dealt with them before. No one knows them better than he and his crew." Hanson rubbed his hand across his forehead, distraught, trying to figure out what to do next.

For Rand, there was no other decision to make. "Admiral, I don't know why this 'Q' of yours saw fit to deposit us here…but now that we are, let us help. We have full control over this ship. We can be of service—"

"Absolutely not!" Hanson broke in. "I have little doubt to the veracity of your claims, Captain Rand…the fact that you're here is full evidence that something is amiss, and that the only culprit possibly responsible could be Q. But you are also intruders aboard Starfleet property…and while I have no wish to treat you as hostiles, if you make _any_ moves to utilize the _Enterprise_ in any way, you and your crew will be arrested and charged as enemies of the Federation!"

On the viewscreen, Hanson quickly began tabbing in commands to a padd which was just out of view, although the sounds of the panels being touched could plainly be heard. "No, Captain…I appreciate the intent, but you and your people are to hold position exactly where you are. I've just signaled the _Okinawa_ and _Magellan_ to rendezvous at your position. They'll be there within the hour, so you are to remain there! Once the ships arrive, you and your crew will be beamed aboard their ships for holding and transport to the nearest starbase, with the _Enterprise_ being towed there as well."

In spite of the tension of the situation, a wry smile crossed Hanson's face as he said, "The last thing I need to hear, whenever Jean-Luc returns, is how I allowed someone else to sit in his chair, let alone gallivant around the cosmos with his ship. If you want to help, just wish us luck, son. Hanson out." The transmission ceased as the Admiral tabbed a panel on his end, and the seal of the Federation appeared once again. Rand's crew looked at him expectantly. "I take it we're not really just going to sit here?" Ben asked, an amused chuckle slipping past his lips.

"Of course not," Rand answered. "I have no intention of letting my crew get 'beamed', whatever the hell that is, let alone simply being taken into custody. Maybe whoever this Q is, brought us here for a reason. Maybe he's in one of his beneficial moods today. Whatever the case, these people need help with this 'Borg', and I'm not going to sit by and let any lives be lost—even if this isn't our own universe. Let's get to the bridge…we need to figure out our position, the position of those ships heading our way, and how we're going to help these people take down these 'Borg'."

The new senior staff of the _Enterprise_ all got to their feet, quickly exiting the conference room and heading out to their de facto bridge…


	3. Chapter 2

**STAR TREK/THE REIGN: HIVE MIND**

Fan fiction Crossover by Lance Berry

Last chapter of buildup, then it dives into the action…

CHAPTER 2: PARALLELS

"I know this is…a difficult concept to understand," Captain Picard was telling the middle-aged, stern-faced officer whose dour countenance stared him down on the _Horizon_'s viewscreen. "But it is the complete and utter truth as to how we came to be in this position."

General Bruce Hackert had never been a man who was easily amused…and he found no humor whatsoever when he tried to contact David Christenson aboard the _Horizon_, only to find that he and his crew had been replaced by a bunch of strangers claiming to be from another universe. He had listened to this "Jean-Luc Picard's" highly imaginative tale as patiently as he could manage, but that patience was quickly nearing its limit. "Well, 'Captain' Picard," Hackert said somewhat mockingly as he looked over Picard's "uniform"—which to the General, looked like nothing more than an outrageously fancy pair of pajamas—"Perhaps where you come from, the letters of the alphabet are a very deadly thing. But here, in this universe, I have more important things to worry about."

Like Admiral Hanson in Picard's own universe, Hackert quickly tabbed commands into a console just out of sight on the viewscreen. "I have a fleet of 500 Heavy Cruisers preparing to amass at Jupiter, because the Calvorian Alliance has chosen to finally send one massive fleet to Earth in an attempt to bring our planet under their rule once and for all—and I _needed_ David Christenson and our flagship!"

Picard shared a brief, urgent look with Will Riker, who was seated in Mara Christenson's chair at the rear of the small, circular bridge—then looked back to Hackert. "Then with all due respect, General…allow us to help! We may not be from your universe, but I can't stand idly by and watch Earth be attacked by any force!"

Hackert raised an eyebrow, impressed by this Picard for the first time since they had begun speaking. "Your offer is noted and appreciated, Picard. However, you're in illicit possession of United Earth Force property, and standing idly by is precisely what you shall do! I've signaled the Heavy Cruisers _Prestige_, _Atlantis_ and _Brooksfield_ to rendezvous at your position. They'll be there in thirty minutes, and all have orders to take your crew into custody and regain control of the _Horizon_. You and your people will be taken to the nearest Watch Station and held there, pending a full investigation into this matter. And Picard, I would advise you to _not_ attempt to resist under any circumstances. These Cruisers will not hesitate to shoot if you or your people give them a reason. The _Horizon_ is our flagship and we need it…but if it needs to be crippled temporarily in order to ensure it falls back into our hands, then c'est la vie."

And without another word, General Hackert closed the channel, returning the image on the viewscreen to that of the stars suspended in place outside.

Picard took a brief look around the bridge at his crew: Data was at the helm console, with Ensign Wesley Crusher beside him at navigation. Counselor Troi was seated at the communications console at the bridge's rear, next to Riker at Ops. Although the primary tactical station was on the upper level of the three-tiered bridge, Picard had ordered Worf to man an auxiliary console on the primary bridge, this console now doubling as the central tactical console. Doctor Crusher was in sickbay down on deck 9, while La Forge was positioned with his team in the engineering room on deck twenty-five. Riker gave the captain a quizzical look. "I take it we're not simply going to wait here to be shackled in irons, sir?"

Picard shook his head. "While I do respect the command line, Will, this isn't our universe and I have no obligations to that gentleman. My primary concern is with getting our crew back home, and perhaps aiding in the protection of this Earth is Q's end-goal. Maybe with this planet saved, Q will have had his fill of amusement, and switch us back to where we belong." The captain turned to Wesley. "Ensign Crusher, what is our ETA to Jupiter from our current position?"

It took only a moment for Wesley to tab in commands to the navigational console and retrieve the required information. "Utilizing the _Horizon_'s artificial wormhole capability at its peak intensity…three hours and fifteen minutes, Captain." Picard took a breath and gave his senior staff a final once-over. "If anyone has any objection to this course of action, speak now. It will be duly noted in this ship's log, and my own, when we get back."

There were no objections. Picard nodded in satisfaction. "Speaker," he said aloud as he took a seat in the utilitarian command chair. The ODC gave off an affirming chime, and the captain's voice echoed throughout the _Horizon_'s thirty-four decks as he said: "Attention all hands, this is the Captain. You've all been apprised of our situation, and you know that we are doing the best we can to find a way back to our own universe and time. However, a situation has arisen where the people of this reality face a grave threat, and they need our help. I would be remiss in my duties as a Starfleet officer to just turn a blind eye to the needs of another world, even if it's not one you or I are familiar with. The primary goal of any Starfleet vessel is '_to seek out new_ _life_'…and in that seeking, we must offer aid whenever necessary and possible. Therefore, we are now taking this ship into combat. I'm sure you've all done your best to familiarize yourselves with the _Horizon_'s systems. We have just over three hours to reach our destination, so I implore you to become even more intimately familiar with them. Although somewhat primitive by our standards, this is an unfamiliar technology to us, and so it will take every last bit of our training to master it fully in order to ensure this Earth's survival…as well as our own. Be certain however, that as always, I have full faith in all of you. Picard out."

"Captain," Deanna spoke up as the intership line shut off, "Doesn't our interference in this universe's war constitute a violation of the Prime Directive?"

"I did consider that, Counselor," Picard replied weightily. "But given the circumstances of our arrival, and the fact this war has no repercussion on our own universe, I don't believe this constitutes any overt violation of the Directive at all." Picard cleared his throat as he turned forward in his chair. "Picard to engineering."

"La Forge here," the answer came back almost immediately.

"Geordi, we'll be utilizing the _Horizon_'s top speed via wormhole."

"Understood, Captain. I have to say, sir; for engines that are based on somewhat simplistic science principles that we wouldn't use in our own realm, these babies down here are a thing of beauty! I'm reading full power available across the board. The gravimetric tunneling device is available through the ship's forward deflectors. I'm ready when you are."

"Thank you, Mister La Forge," Picard said. "Mister Data, Mister Crusher…set course for Jupiter, top speed. Engage!"

The android and the young man seated at the forward consoles replied affirmatively. Only seconds later as they worked their controls in tandem, a pinprick opened up in the space ahead of them on the viewscreen. The pinprick widened rapidly to a massive, ovular maw…and within was a multicolored swirling mass of infinity. A tunnel into and through the fourth dimension known as hyperspace. It was an imposing sight, and all on the bridge looked upon it with no small measure of awe. Data tabbed some commands into the helm console and the mile-and-a-half long behemoth known as the _Horizon_ moved forward both under its own steam, and was simultaneously pulled toward the roaring tear in space by the immense gravitational forces on display. The Heavy Cruiser dove into the wormhole, and as soon as it was fully inside, the tear in space closed behind it and vanished, leaving no evidence that the ship had ever been there…


	4. Chapter 3

**STAR TREK/THE REIGN: HIVE MIND**

Fan fiction Crossover by Lance Berry

CHAPTER 3: AND HERE…WE…GO!

Borg.

One small, simple word. Travis Rand hadn't thought much of it, until he and his crew had taken time out of the one hour and seventeen minute journey to Wolf 359 to sit down in the _Enterprise_'s conference room and review Starfleet's records of this alien species, and what they were all about. Rand had fought a lot of different enemies in his life, and thought no species could ever match the Calvorians for sheer cold-bloodedness. Mara had even quipped that the name Borg "sounded Swedish".

The quips and light-hearted humor had come to an end immediately upon the tactical footage of the _Enterprise_'s first encounter with the Borg, approximately two years earlier from when Rand and his people had been thrown into the Federation's universe.

As they watched the archive play out, Rand and his senior staff finally got their first glimpse of the malevolent trickster Q, as with a snap of his fingers, he displayed his seemingly godlike powers to send the starship hurtling some 7,000 light years across the galaxy into their first encounter with the Borg. That encounter had been terrible: eighteen crewmembers dead when the Borg cube carved out and stole a portion of the ship's primary saucer module, and the _Enterprise_—in spite of its marvelous weaponry which even Tholin had to admit, he somewhat admired—all but helpless. It was only through Q's "generosity" that the ship and its crew had been flung back into Federation space, away from the menace, but the damage had been done: the Borg were aware of their existence, and now they were here to claim their prize.

The second the file footage had completed, Captain Rand ordered Jamie and Tholin to get to work jerry-rigging whatever type of technological bridge they could between the _Horizon_'s weaponry and shields with those in utilization by the _Enterprise_. "Maybe if we can give these Borg something unexpected to knock up against, we can figure out a way to stop them," Rand had told them. There were affirming nods from the senior staff as the conference ended, and all headed out to their new stations with no small amount of trepidation…all except Rand.

Travis Rand still didn't know if his unique circumstance was due to the genetic interfering with his bloodline by the Venseshi, or if it were just some fluke…but it appeared he had been born without the gene for fear. Through all his life—almost losing control of his DFC(Dogfighter Craft) and crashing during his Academy days, fighting the swifter, more powerful Calvorians in hand-to-hand combat, and onto his victory at the Jupiter Skirmish, he had never known true fear. He had seen it in others, he knew what the emotion looked like on their faces, how it hampered their movements…but never him. He had felt minute variations on it; anxiety, concern, perhaps a bit of worry…but never cold, hard fear or its cousin, outright terror. Even knowing what these Borg were capable of, he didn't feel anything more except the familiar tension and growling in his gut to jump into combat. Fearful to the Federation or not, to Travis Rand, the Borg were simply one more enemy to overcome.

"Now approaching Wolf 359," Bardo Va, the Tetelloran pilot on loan to UEF, announced calmly from his position at the ship's helm. The pale-skinned, blonde haired, blue eyed alien hailed from an entire Utopian race of exceptional fighter pilots, and he was the very best his species had to offer. Although Bardo's race preached peace, they had had their fair share of encounters with the Calvorian Alliance over the years, and were well aware that the galaxy was far from safe. One of their primary mantras when going into combat was "If we must kill…kill your enemy with love in your heart", meaning that no matter the conflict, its reasoning or its cause, mercy is to be shown, and one must end their enemy's life as swiftly and with as little suffering as possible.

"Tactical, scan ahead. Give me a reading on that battlefield," Rand ordered from the captain's chair. To his right sat Mara, checking ship's operations on the first officer's armrest console. Standing above and behind them at the tactical officer's console, Tholin leaned over it slightly as he replied, "Starfleet has engaged the Borg. From what I can tell, the encounter has not been going on more than thirty minutes. Two starships have been destroyed, with no life signs aboard…but their engine reactors haven't gone completely cold yet."

"Distance from the site?" Mara asked.

"Eighty thousand kilometers," Lieutenant Zahara Zukhoury answered swiftly from her position at navigation. The beautiful young Indian woman was the second best DFC pilot in UEF, right after Bardo.

"Helm, drop us out of warp," Rand ordered, readying himself. "Tholin, bring all shields up to full power. It's time to see what this baby can do."

Bardo and Tholin carried out their orders in precise unison, as they had dozens of times aboard the _Horizon_. Now, the _Enterprise_ dropped to sublight speed, and the viewscreen came alive, revealing a scene out of some thrashing, waking nightmare: An immense Borg cube, moving serenely through space as if its crew had not a care in the world, almost casually swatting aside attacks from nearly 40 of Starfleet's best and most powerful ships.

There was some minor damage to the cube, Rand noted, but it certainly wasn't enough to make any important difference as a green Borg laser sliced into another starship, crippling it severely. Several small modules began tumbling outward from the damaged vessel.

"The ship is ejecting escape pods," Tholin informed them.

"Put me in touch with the one closest to us," Rand ordered.

Tholin tabbed a panel. "You're on."

"_Enterprise_ to escape pods. We don't have time to take you on, but maneuver behind us. We'll cover for you until you get out-system."

"This is Lieutenant-Commander Benjamin Sisko," came a somewhat shaken voice over the speakers. "Is this Captain Picard--? We've got wounded aboard these pods--!"

"I say again, maneuver behind us," Rand said, skirting around the Picard issue. Obviously this Sisko had never met the man, and there was no reason to confuse him or anyone else. "Escape to out-system. We'll buy you time!"

A slight pause, then: "Acknowledged, _Enterprise_. Thank you. Sisko out."

As the channel closed, Rand clenched his fist as he focused solely on the cube, attempting to discern any weak spot thus far overlooked. He could find none. "Prepare to bring us in," he said grimly. Before Bardo could acknowledge, Tholin received an announcing beep on his console. "We're being hailed, sir. Admiral Hanson."

"On screen."

"Captain Rand, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Hanson said angrily as his face appeared on the central viewscreen. "I gave you strict orders to hold position where you were!"

Rand got to his feet, striding a couple steps forward as he answered, "With all respect, Admiral…neither you nor anyone else in this reality is my commanding officer. And the truth is, you need _every_ ship available to take on the Borg. My crew and I know what we're doing, so give us some clearance, because we've brought a little something extra to the party!"

The bridge of Hanson's ship, the _Liberator_, shook violently as the admiral quickly considered his options. With a nod of acquiescence, he said, "Very well, Captain. Move in at point oh-three-one—"

"Captain!" Tholin said abruptly, cutting off Hanson. "The Borg cube has disengaged from the fleet and is heading directly towards us!"

"What--?!" Both Hanson and Rand exclaimed simultaneously. As Hanson checked the console on his armrest to confirm Tholin's readings, Rand immediately ordered the Calvorian officer to show him. Tholin worked his console quickly, changing the view from Hanson's face back to the Borg cube, which had indeed barreled past the fleet and was charging headlong toward the _Enterprise_. The cube abruptly slowed down, but it now filled the viewscreen, its size suddenly made all the more imposing.

"The Borg are hailing us," Tholin said.

Rand's eyes narrowed slightly. He and Mara shared a look of puzzlement mixed with apprehension, then Rand looked up at Tholin and nodded. As the tactical officer plied his console once more, the image on the viewscreen changed to that of a multi-tiered industrial-looking facility which seemed to stretch into infinity.

There was a pause, which for some reason Rand didn't expect. Then, a chorus of male voices spoke as one: "You are not Jean-Luc Picard. Jean-Luc Picard is the captain of the starship _Enterprise_, registry NCC-1701-D. Who are you?" Even though Rand was an atheist, he admitted to himself that he had never heard a voice as completely devoid of the minutest shreds of a soul as this one.

"I'm Captain Travis Rand. Do you know me?"

Another brief pause. _They shouldn't know me_, Rand thought. _Any confusion on their part is_ _an advantage to us_. Finally the cold, indifferent voice replied, "There is no record of a Travis Rand in any portion of Starfleet or Federation archives known to us. Where is Jean-Luc Picard?"

"None of your damn business," Rand asserted. "I'm advising you to withdraw to your own territory. This is the only warning you get, so it would be in the best interest of the Collective's continued existence to heed it."

The bluff didn't work. The response came quicker this time: "Travis Rand. Captain of the starship _Enterprise_, registry NCC-1701-D. You will lower your shields and prepare to transport yourself aboard our vessel. If you do not cooperate, we will destroy your ship."

Rand heard the assertive beep from Tholin's console behind him. "The Borg are attempting to scan us," the Calvorian officer announced. "As Chief Hughes anticipated, their scans are sliding off our shield improvements. They cannot penetrate our hull."

"You will surrender yourself or we will destroy your ship," the voice insisted nonetheless. "Your defensive capabilities are unable to withstand us."

"Really?" Rand replied, allowing the barest hint of a sly smile to cross his lips. "You be sure to remind the devil you told me that, after I send you spiraling and screaming into hell." He turned to Tholin and made a cutting gesture. Tholin tabbed a panel. "Transmission ended."

Rand quickly strode back to the captain's chair and sat once more. "Bearing zero-zero-zero mark zero. Dead center, Tholin—fire the upgraded phasers!"

In the reality where Travis Rand and his crew came from, the Calvorian Alliance had weapons installed on their ships called _masers_—a particle beam consisting of a joined stream of matter and antimatter. Now, combining the technology of UEF's lasers—which, as La Forge had observed, were very nearly on a par with a Galaxy-class ship's phasers—with the _Enterprise_'s own 24th Century weaponry, chief engineer Jamie Hughes had managed to develop a new emitting weapon far more powerful than any Calvorian beam.

The deadly deep red bolt of energy blasted forth from the _Enterprise_'s forward phaser emitters, striking the Borg ship dead center and blasting a sizeable chunk out of the cube. On the bridge of the _Liberator_, Admiral Hanson gripped the arms of his chair in shock and leaned forward as he watched the Borg ship actually _reel backward_ slightly from the impact. "Holy God!" he said, well aware that similar looks of astonishment had appeared on the faces of several of his crew. "What kind of weapon is that?" he wondered aloud.

"Sir, we're receiving a coded transmission from the _Enterprise_," the tactics officer said from the station behind him. "Technical schematics on how to reconfigure our weaponry by channeling power through the warp core and impulse EPS taps, using modified dilithium crystals and something called…_charged antimatter_?" the officer said in wonder. "It's sort of like the emitter blast Starfleet Defense coordinator Shelby had come up with, only more powerful. There's also details on how to reinforce our shields with a new type of emitter design Rand's chief engineer came up with. Captain Rand's transmission says it takes about twenty minutes to complete."

"Re-encrypt the transmission," Hanson ordered. "Send it to engineering, then the rest of the fleet. And tell all captains, I want their weapons reconfigured in ten minutes, tops." Hanson shook his head in amazement as the Borg ship shook again with another blast from the _Enterprise_. "Rand…if we make it out of this alive, I may just have to give you a starship of your own, after all."

"Switch it up, Tholin," Rand ordered sharply. "The Borg adapt quickly…we don't want to give them the chance to recover. Fire torpedoes!"

Tholin tabbed a panel, unleashing the pre-arranged firing sequence he had set up en route to Wolf 359. Six torpedoes—no longer truly photonic, as they contained packets of _charged_ _antimatter_(antimatter combined with several exotic energies, locked into a millisecond rotating positive-negative matter charge designed to inflict maximum damage upon contact) manufactured on the fly aboard ship—shot forward from the _Enterprise_'s launch tube and screamed their way through the void, soaring unerringly toward their target. They scattered, heading for different points on the vessel, and impacted two to the center, and one to each of the cube's four corners, generating spectacular explosions within the eternal night of space.

"The cube's power emissions are down nearly thirty percent," Mara announced as she checked readings on her command chair's arm console. "The Borg are attempting to regenerate, but I estimate it's not as fast as they usually would."

Rand nodded in affirmation. "Tholin—the starships that are damaged…have their cores gone cold yet?"

"Negative," the Calvorian soldier replied. "There's still a considerable amount of energy left within them."

Rand checked coordinates on his armrest. "Bardo, Zahara--come about on heading zero-three-nine by one-one eight. Rand to engineering!"

"Chief Hughes here," the response came back swiftly over the ODN.

"Jamie, we're going to need a tractor beam. It's going to be snaring an entire starship hull. Can you manage?"

"This ship and I understand each other now, Captain. We're ready when you are."

"Standby then," Rand ordered, then checked coordinates again. "We're heading for the wreck of the _Melbourne_, Bardo. Fifteen hundred kilometers in proximity. Tholin as we pass it, snag it with the tractor beam."

Both officers responded affirmatively, and Bardo's fingers danced across the helm console. The _Enterprise_ dove downward at a steep angle, headed for the drifting hulk of what used to be the _Melbourne_. As the flagship began its pass, a tractor beam shot out, ensnaring the ruined ship and the Galaxy-class engines strained momentarily under the added weight. They quickly regained however, and the _Enterprise_ came about once more, heading for the Borg cube, which began firing its lasers at the starship.

The _Enterprise_ bridge shuddered slightly under the impact from the Borg lasers against its shields. Rand glanced upward at Tholin. "The Borg were unprepared for our new magnetic repulsion shields, which now act as a second cover over those of the _Enterprise_. Their lasers are sliding off."

Rand nodded in satisfaction, then turned forward again as Bardo announced, "Coming up on optimum drop point, Captain!"

Rand watched a moment as the Borg cube began to swing by on the viewscreen, when in reality it was the _Enterprise_ that was passing by it. "Tholin, release tractor beam," the Captain ordered. "Bardo, come about on one-five-two by one-three-eight!"

Bardo's fingers flew across the console with a practiced elegance as on the viewscreen, the stars swung by wildly until the cube was visible once more, with the wrecked hull of the _Melbourne_ soaring toward it.

"Fire!" Rand shouted.

The reconfigured phasers shot forward from the _Enterprise_ once again, this time directed toward the _Melbourne_'s engine core. The beam cut through the hull and directly into the matter/antimatter reaction chamber, breaking the seals separating the two. Before the Borg could realize what was going on and react, the _Melbourne_ exploded with the intensity of a small nova nearly right up against their hull—breaking through the Borg shields and creating yet another gaping hole upon the vessel's outer shell.

"Borg energy emissions are down to sixty-two percent capacity," the _Liberator_'s tactical officer marveled as he informed Admiral Hanson.

"I'm beginning to like this Rand fellow more and more," Hanson said aloud, although more to himself. He heard the beep from the tactical station behind him, and cocked an ear toward it as the officer announced, "Admiral, engineering confirms they've got the reconfigured weapon in place. The majority of other ships in the fleet report same."

"Then let's give the Borg a taste of something new: fear."

Rand watched in satisfaction as on the _Enterprise_'s viewscreen, the other starships began opening fire with the improved phasers Jamie had engineered. The Borg cube reeled from blow after blow, as more cracks and fissures began forming on its hull. But the captain felt his heart drop to his gut as one final blast from the starship _Princeton_ abruptly ricocheted off a forcefield that had suddenly appeared around the cube.

"_Shit_," Rand hissed tersely. "They've adapted."

Not only adapted, however…the Borg's attack became renewed, more aggressive. The majority of starships had rushed to implement Tholin's weapons reconfiguration, but had not had time to adjust their shields accordingly. Lasers from the Borg cube began ripping through ship after ship, tearing through their standard shields like wet tissue paper, as the cube began making a path directly for the _Enterprise_ once more.

Rand repeated his maneuver of swinging by a wrecked ship, the tractor beam this time grabbing hold of the _Tolstoy_. But instead of pushing it toward the Borg ship, Rand had the _Enterprise_ maneuver the dead hulk in between themselves and the cube, which was swatting starships aside, ruthlessly cutting off hundreds of lives aboard them, as if they were little more than bothersome gnats.

A Borg laser smashed through the _Tolstoy_, turning it into millions of tiny bits of spinning debris, and then a green beam emanated forward, brutally shaking the _Enterprise_ as it latched onto it.

"Tractor beam!" Tholin announced, then said as he checked his readings, "It's draining power from both types of shields we have in place! Ninety percent…eighty…sixty!" the Calvorian stated in amazement. "Magnetic repulsion is gone! The _Enterprise_'s standard shields are being drained now. Eighty…seventy-one…"

"What can we do?" Mara asked as she turned toward Rand, an intense fear in her eyes that she was failing to get under control.

Rand tabbed a panel on his armchair console. "Rand to all hands! Every crewmember is to arm themselves with phasers and prepare to be boarded! Set your weapons to the high EM spectrum, and shoot to _kill_! No exceptions!" He shut off the comm and pointed at the screen. "Tholin, can we shut down that tractor beam?"

"It is in a decentralized location, making computer targeting difficult, but I'll try!" With that, the Calvorian tabbed panels on his console, attempting to get an accurate lock. On the viewscreen, the improved phasers shot forward, striking a point _near_ what looked like the emitting spot for the tractor beam, but instead only took out a portion of the hull.

"Shields are down to forty-three percent…twenty-four," Mara counted down grimly as she took hold of a phaser which slid from a panel within her chair, then glanced at Rand. "Gee, think the Borg are eager to meet us, or what?" She quipped in gallows humor, then returned to the death-knell as she announced, "Sixteen percent…fourteen…"

Tholin tabbed another panel. On the viewscreen, the reconfigured phasers shot out again, this time impacting squarely where the tractor beam was coming from. There was a dull explosion, and the tractor beam shut off. "Tractor beam down," Tholin announced proudly.

"Too late," Mara exclaimed. "Shields are _gone_!"

And no sooner had Mara Christenson uttered those words, than it seemed the statement had willed the Borg into existence aboard the _Enterprise_ bridge. Green energy coalesced into several Borg drones, placed at strategic points near the helm, navigation, security, Ops and next to the lift doors, cutting off all escape.

Zahara couldn't help it; she had never seen such an off-putting creature in her life, and she screamed before she could stop herself. The Borg drone turned toward her, a targeting laser in an eye sensor focusing directly on her as its hand reached out…

"Don't let them touch you!" Rand shouted as he stood and aimed his phaser, letting loose with one single deadly shot which struck the Borg directly in its head, blasting it apart. The war outside between Starfleet and the Borg cube was suddenly forgotten as the sounds of phaser fire filled the bridge. Bardo took out one Borg soldier, Mara another.

Tholin however, preferred the direct approach. He set his phaser down on the security console and extended his knife-sharp teeth and fingernails to their full one-inch length. To any other species the Calvorian had faced, it would have given them pause to reconsider…yet the Borg drone advanced, heedless of the danger. Tholin surged forward, grabbing the arm the drone had extended toward him, intent on injecting him with its nano-distribution tubes. He held the soldier's arm in one hand and brought his other talons sharply downward, ripping flesh and circuitry from the arm, nearly shearing the limb halfway off. The soldier shuddered in shock, and Tholin took advantage of the drone's sudden uncertainty to lunge forward, snagging its throat in his teeth. Tholin bit down sharply and pulled back, ripping the drone's throat out. It made a type of gurgling sound—perhaps the first time in ages it had ever attempted to use its larynx—and fell backward to the floor, dead. Tholin spat the piece of oddly bloodless meat out onto the drone's chest. "So fierce," he said derisively.

"Tholin!"

Tholin turned to look down at Captain Rand, who was shaking his head reprovingly. The black male held up a phaser and pointed to it meaningfully, and Tholin nodded in reluctant understanding.

All around them were dead Borg drones, with Zahara being held in the arms of her lover, Bardo Va, for some support. The crew only had a moment's peace however, before that odd sound of teleportation occurred again, and more Borg appeared—only this time, according to Tholin's quick accounting, there were at least _fourteen_ of them!

This time Tholin didn't hesitate in snatching up his phaser and targeting the nearest drone. Only when he fired, the beam was absorbed harmlessly by the impregnable shield that had jumped up around the drone. "Weapons are useless!" Tholin shouted to them, before he felt an odd pinching at the back of his neck. He whirled around, backhanding the drone that had stung him, breaking its neck with his superior strength…but even as the soldier fell dead to the floor, a queasiness had overtaken Tholin and he fell to his knees, suddenly struggling to retain control of his own body. He glanced down at the railway opening of the tactical console to see the other members of his crew firing and finding their phasers now equally worthless…but when he looked upon the humans and Tetelloran he had been serving with for years, it was as if he didn't know them.

_I am the Borg_, a beautifully seductive voice called to Tholin within his head. _Your physiology will adapt to service me, Toleen of Augara. Yes, I know who you are now. Your true name, hindered and misused by an alien tongue, is as unhidden from me now as the fact that you come from another universe I had never dreamt existed. But I thank you, Toleen, for your knowledge has given the Borg new worlds to seek out, to assimilate, to make one with our own harmonious Collective…_

And that thought, that terrible knowledge that he had surrendered to the enemy, made Tholin groan in agony and defeat as he fell hard to the deck, his eyes closing as he felt something cold and alien slither beneath his bronze skin…

Travis Rand saw his ally fall, and could scarcely believe it. But as he sensed motion behind him, he pushed the distraction out of his mind and spun around, barely managing to catch the wrist of the Borg soldier that had advanced upon him. With a cry of rage, the captain shoved his fist hard into the center of the Borg's elbow, shattering it in a shower of sparks. Like the one Tholin had killed earlier, this one was unprepared for such a shocking physical attack and shuddered in surprise. Rand glanced to his side. "Mara, duck!" He yelled and spun the drone around, using its own weight against it as he tossed it into the Borg soldier that had been approaching his first officer. The two fell to the floor like dead weight as Mara scrambled out of the way.

"Zahara, no!" Bardo cried, making Rand and Mara turn just in time to see another Borg inject Zahara with its distribution tubes. The young Indian woman, more fighter pilot than trained hand-to-hand combatant, had frozen in fear at the imposing Borg menace, allowing one of the drones to get the drop on her. As her eyes glazed over and she fell, Bardo leapt across the few feet between him and her attacker, tackling the Borg to the floor. Before it could raise an arm to defend itself, Bardo chopped it across the neck, making its mouth go agape as its air supply was shorted, then quickly snapped its neck. Bardo then turned to Zahara and froze in shock as the veins on her face and neck distended as nano-probes wormed their way through her bloodstream, rewriting her DNA and consciousness. Soon, she would be nothing more than a part of the Borg uni-mind.

Another Borg advanced upon Mara. She high-kicked its nose up into its brain, and it dropped to the floor. "Retreat to engineering!" Rand ordered, and turned only to find more Borg blocking his path. Rand dropped and spun around, swiping his leg out to sweep the first soldier's feet out from under it. The drone toppled backward into two of its fellows, the trio falling down in a tangle of prosthetics and cybernetic attachments. Rand heard Mara cry out, and turned too late, to see her slump backward into the first officer's chair, her skin shifting as nano-probes crawled beneath it. The captain was filled with rage, and in the split second of indecision where he was deciding whether to kill the Borg that had done this to her or head for the lift, one of the drones surprised him from behind. Rand felt the sting at the base of his neck and spun around, prepared to issue one last killing stroke—but it was Zahara standing before him, looking at him with a cold indifference as her distribution tubes retracted into her hand.

Even with the knowledge that it was now only Zahara's shell standing before him, Travis still couldn't bring himself to harm her. He stumbled backward, feeling his body go numb as he fell into the captain's chair beside Mara, who was already rising to her feet to begin her new life as a member of the Collective. Rand gripped the arms of his chair, struggling against the powerful will he felt trying to take control of his body; to stamp down every last personal memory he had into eternal darkness.

_I am the Borg_, a beautifully seductive voice called to him within his head.

With a massive shudder of his body, Travis Rand answered, _Fuck you_.

All at once, Rand bent his torso forward and threw up all over the floor in front of him. What came out was something that should never eject from a human's body; a type of black sludge, like pudding left in a dank corner under a refrigerator for months on end. He threw up again, and more came up. He fell to his knees, bracing himself against the floor with his hands and spewed another stream one more time. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and felt the voice flee from inside his skull…not exactly fearful, but more uncomprehending as to what had just happened to its intended new prize. Rand's vision cleared, and he looked up…

All the Borg drones had gone immobile. They were staring at him. And although their faces were passive, Rand could swear there was a type of unfathomable wonder within their eyes.

Aboard the Borg cube, in a hidden alcove, a four-sided holographic display cube serving as viewscreen turned slowly in front of the Borg Queen as her children's wonder was reflected in her eyes. She looked at this seemingly insignificant human, this Travis Rand, and suddenly knew with unflinching clarity that he was far from insignificant after all. She had gained wondrous insight into this new universe waiting to be assimilated by her species, but was astounded for the first time in her existence. No one—no being, in the entire history of the Borg—had resisted her will before. This was significant indeed.

"Him," she whispered, her voice drifting across the gulf of space to echo in the brains of all her children aboard the _Enterprise_. "He is precious. Do not hurt him, but he _must_ be brought to me."

On the bridge of the _Enterprise_, the Borg drones—including Mara, Bardo, Zahara and all the others made part of the Collective—moved forward as one, arms outstretched like zombies in their goal to capture Rand. Travis had no idea what happened to him, or why he managed to reject the nano-probes when even Tholin hadn't been able to, but it was an experience he wasn't eager to repeat, one way or the other.

Rand turned around, jumped on the counselor's chair as a springboard and grabbed the underside of the tactical console, swinging through the small opening space next to the central pillar holding it up like a kid on a jungle gym. As he regained his balance, the Tholin-Borg moved toward him, arms outstretched. Rand had fought the Calvorian in hand-to-hand combat years ago, and although the Tholin-drone moved far slower, facing off against a being with a Calvorian's resiliency to pain was another experience the captain didn't wish to repeat. He spied Tholin's phaser, unintentionally discarded on the floor, and snatched it up quickly. Spinning on his heel, Travis raced for the lift, the doors barely managing to close behind him as three of the drones reached it.

"Engineering," Rand snapped at the ODN even as he began readjusting the phaser's settings, trying to find a higher EM level the Borg might not have been able to adjust to yet. The lift responded by swiftly diving between decks. Since taking command of the _Enterprise_, Rand had become familiar enough with its systems to know about the automatic saucer separation process. If he could get to engineering, seal off the upper decks, do an emergency separation, he and his crew might have a chance to regain a solid foothold in this battle.

_If the Borg cube hasn't fully regenerated yet_, he realized grimly.

Another thought came to him. "Rand to sickbay. Ben, are you—"

"Surrender, Travis," Ben's voice came back to him, but without any inflection, any hint of the great warmth, humor or openness he had known the doctor to possess from the first moment they met. "We are the Borg. Resistance is futile."

Travis' first impulse upon hearing the new emotionless nature of his old friend's voice was to slump against the lift wall in despair. Yet he did resist. Travis Rand had never walked away from a fight in his life, nor had he ever lost one. He was a survivor, through and through…he had faced hopeless situations before, and come out on top. This was just one more thing to overcome. "Computer, close channel," he ordered, but realized his voice did shake as he said it, if only a bit.

The lift finally came to a halt on deck 36, and Rand braced himself, phaser at the ready, as the doors slid apart. There was no one present, the coast appeared clear, but he could hear what sounded like a dull pounding. It was an odd sound, and for reasons the captain couldn't fathom, he likened it to someone slapping fish against a window.

Rand crept out of the lift on the balls of his feet, rechecking his phaser one last time, then peeked around the corner. There were at least a couple dozen Borg gathered around, the majority of them pounding against a forcefield that had been erected just before the room housing the warp core. Standing tiptoe, Rand was able to see several members of his crew huddling together fearfully. Some were wounded, all were armed with phasers…phasers which Rand assumed were now useless, otherwise they would have been firing them. At one of the control consoles behind the forcefield, Rand could just make out Jamie, hunched over it and tabbing in commands like crazy, her fingers flying across the console's controls with a dexterity even he didn't know she possessed. Glancing back at the Borg, he spotted two drones separate from the crowd, leaning over the engineering master control console, likewise tabbing in commands. Rand assessed instantly what was happening, and was suddenly uncertain whether he should risk interrupting Jamie.

With a light exhalation, Rand moved back to the lift and entered it. "Rand to Hughes," he whispered as the doors closed, hoping the ODN could hear him and that if Jamie were able to respond, the sound couldn't carry past the closed doors.

There was a moment's pause, then the young woman's trembling voice replied: "H-Hughes here. I can h-hear y-you, Captain. Travis…where _are_ you?" There was such hopelessness, such dependency and despondency in her voice, it forced Rand to close his eyes a moment in empathy. Both of them being survivors of the New York Wastelands, he and Jamie had always shared a special connection, and he knew that Jamie idolized him to some degree, almost like a big brother. She was one of the smartest human beings that had ever lived, but that didn't make her immune to human emotions, including fear.

Rand opened his eyes. "I'm in turbolift four, Jamie. Right around the corner from engineering. I saw you, behind the forcefield. What's the situation?"

The captain could hear Jamie's fingers pounding furiously at the command tabs as she replied, "There are only about a dozen of us left here. I managed to seal us off from the Borg, using a multi-fractal encryption code for the shield command, but they're…they're fighting against it, Travis!" She stopped speaking a moment, and her sobs carried across the com-line, though she still tabbed commands into the console. It took Jamie a moment to get herself under control, then she continued, "There are…there are two of them, each working the code at opposite ends. I'm reentering more codes into the system, but I'm…I'm running out of ideas and…_oh, God_, Travis! They got _Cianna_! She was down here, trying to help, and they—they—"

Rand frowned. Cianna Sito, a native of the PanAsian Provinces and a recent addition to the _Horizon_'s roster, was Jamie's girlfriend. They had only been dating a few short weeks, but anyone could see they were already madly in love.

"I—I'm sorry, Jamie," Rand said honestly. "You've got to hold it together though. We need to figure out how we can retake this deck, then help the others. I've got a plan, but—"

"THERE ARE NO OTHERS!" Jamie exploded over the com-line, and Rand heard her pound her fist on the console, then stop tabbing in commands. "I've done a scan of all decks. The Borg have overrun the ship! This deck, you, me, the handful with me—_we're all that's left!_"

The phaser almost slipped from Rand's hand before he managed to grip it again firmly as he recoiled from the shock of the intel Jamie had just lain on him. The ODN gave off a beep. "Please state floor destination."

"Hold position," Rand said sharply. His mind whirled…there had to be a way out of this, there had to be--! "Jamie," he managed after a moment. "Just keep up with your encryption code. Have the others reset their weapons to the highest EM levels they can. I'm coming out."

The last three words made Jamie stop sobbing. It was an abysmal situation they were in, but hearing Travis say those words—_I'm coming out_—insanely gave her some type of hope. She had known Travis Rand ever since he had come aboard the _Horizon_ as a helmsman, and she knew he had a penchant for pulling miracles out of thin air. The Jupiter Skirmish had proven that. She had no idea what he could spring this time, but she managed to will herself together…for him. "O-okay…" she answered.

In the turbolift, Rand exhaled heavily, taking several deep breaths and expelling them, bracing himself. He stepped forward, and the doors opened. The dull pounding still resounded from around the corner, but there were no Borg in his immediate line of sight. He tiptoed forward once more, then peeked around the corner. The image was exactly the same as before: Two Borg working the master control console, while the others attempted to wear down the forcefield with Jamie and the others behind it.

Rand chose his target: the Borg on the right side of the console. He aimed carefully and fired, striking the Borg at the base of the throat, blowing sparks out of his body. The Borg opposite him turned his head rapidly and caught sight of Rand, who was charging forward, firing again. The phaser bolt was repelled by a force-screen this time, and the Borg turned fully now, ready for him.

Or so it thought. While at the Academy in his own universe, Rand had become an avid student of _Jeet Kune Do_, the fighting style invented by Bruce Lee, the greatest human fighter who had ever lived. It was Rand's devotion to the art which enabled him to beat three far stronger Calvorians in his lifetime, and it had to aid him now, for all their sakes. The Borg began swinging its arm—which was enabled with a very deadly-looking pincer prosthetic—at him, but Rand ducked under it, came up and grabbed the Borg at the shoulder and side of its head. Twisting his feet against the Borg's own, Rand shoved it off balance and brought its skull crashing down upon the master control console. With one good tug, Rand broke its neck and let the body fall limply to the floor.

The other Borg—all of them—turned away from Jamie's erected forcefield as one, that task abandoned as their eyes focused on nothing else but Rand. Rand took off his black uniform jacket, throwing it to the ground in order to give himself as much leeway for speed as possible. As the Borg approached, Rand deflected a blow from one and grabbed its chin, pushing it backward even as he twisted its ankle, sending it falling back headfirst to the floor. He kicked another hard in the chest, sending the bulky automaton crashing into several of its fellows. A high roundhouse kick broke the neck of another.

Yet while the Borg were slow, there were just too many of them. They surrounded Travis, and while he managed to push one away, another injected him in the neck with their nano-tubes. He felt the wave of nausea surge over him again as he spun around and crushed that Borg's windpipe with a single blow. But then another moved forward, shooting nano-probes into his arm, through his sleeve. Rand whirled around and grabbed it by the arm, but had to let go as he doubled over and began to throw up the probes once more. The Borg swarmed over him like locusts devouring the body of a larger wounded insect, and began tagging him all over, shooting stream after stream of nano-probes into his body.

"TRAVIS!!" Jamie screamed, and Rand could hear her forcefield lower, followed by the sounds of phaser fire as his crewmen rushed forward, trying their best to cut through the drones encircling him. The phaser fire didn't last long however, as the enemy quickly adapted to all the various EM pulses sent at them. There were two final things Travis heard as he began to lose consciousness. First came Jamie's scream as he fell to his knees. Then, as his head hit the floor, that malevolently sensual voice again.

_Welcome_, it said, as Travis closed his eyes and oblivion claimed him…


	5. Chapter 4

**STAR TREK/THE REIGN: HIVE MIND**

Fan fiction Crossover by Lance Berry

CHAPTER 4: FLIPSIDE

_Captain's Log, starda—June 9__th__, 2190. 0730 hours. Choosing to defy the orders of Earth Force General Hackert, I and my senior staff have chosen to head to the fleet's rendezvous at Jupiter, in order to aid in what may well be humanity's final attempt to keep the Calvorian Alliance from conquering Earth. Although this world is not my own, there are enough similarities within this planet's history, its culture, that I feel compelled to do whatever I can to save it. I don't know whether these feelings are all part of Q's game, or if they come from deeper within me. I choose to believe the latter. In the end, it doesn't matter whether or not this is my universe…Earth is my home, and I'll be damned if __any__ enemy gains a foothold there. _

An ovular tear opened in the fabric of reality and rapidly widened, allowing the _Horizon_ to jump out of hyperspace. The Heavy Cruiser came hard to port, only a few hundred thousand kilometers from Jupiter.

On the _Horizon_'s bridge, the overheads had grown slightly dimmer as the flashing lights of Red Alert had come on. Although the alert klaxon had a slightly different sound to it, this was oddly enough the first thing in this new universe that Jean-Luc Picard had found even remotely comforting. The captain had ordered the alarm shut off anyway, but he and his senior staff remained ready for combat. Counselor Troi had turned her head slightly from her position at communications to glance at the spinning giant on the viewscreen. "It's amazing…so much like the one in our own universe," she marveled aloud.

"Sensors show that it is exactly like our own, down to the scar left by the last meteor impact in the early 21st Century," Data replied casually, as he scanned the planet from the helm console.

"Captain," Worf said as he turned partway from the auxiliary tactical console to face his commanding officer. "The UEF fleet has moved into position above Jupiter. I have also detected the approaching Calvorian fleet."

"Let me see the Calvorians, Mr. Worf."

Worf tabbed a panel on his console. On the central viewscreen, the image of Jupiter changed to a massive fleet consisting of dozens of similar-looking large, angular vessels. The vessels were quite imposing in design, especially since the sides of each vessel closest to their bows were painted in a manner resembling sharpened teeth. _Ready for the feast_, Picard thought grimly. He then noticed there were several much larger ships in the group, and he turned to the Klingon. "What do we have on those larger vessels, Lieutenant?"

Worf had already studied the few files available on Calvorian ships, and pulled up a schematic of one of the larger vessels on the viewscreen to aid in his dissertation. "Calvorian battlecruisers are roughly the same length as Earth Force Heavy Cruisers, but the larger ships are dreadnoughts. Each one is nearly double the size of the standard Calvorian battlecruiser, and carries firepower roughly equivalent to the D'deridex-class Romulan warbirds we are familiar with."

"Off-putting, to say the least," Picard acknowledged with a glance toward Riker. The first officer nodded. "It's like if Kirk's _Enterprise_ came forward in time and had to square off against ours. No wonder these people have had a hard time keeping the Alliance out of their territory."

Picard nodded in agreement and looked back at the main viewscreen. "Worf…how many ships are in the Calvorian fleet, and how many of them are dreadnoughts?"

"There are four hundred and seventy-two Calvorian ships in their fleet…and _forty_ of them are dreadnoughts," Worf said darkly.

An apprehensive look passed in turn among the senior officers and Wesley. Picard considered the situation carefully. "Mr. Data…since we're not technically a part of the Earth Force fleet, we're not privy to their plans. What does the positioning of their ships tell you, though?"

Data calculated all possible options within a split second. "The fleet's current geosynchronous orbit above Jupiter indicates they are allowing the planet's gravity to mask their presence. Their best option is to utilize their ships' null fields to allow near-light travel through normal space and ambush the Calvorians as they begin passing by."

Picard glanced over his shoulder at Riker. "Number One, do you agree?"

"I do, sir. I think that would give them only a 50-50 chance of any real success, though, based on the presence of the dreadnoughts."

"Mr. Worf, your opinion?" Picard asked the tactics officer.

Worf tabbed a panel, switching the image back to that of the planet. Red indicators showed the closing position of the Calvorian fleet, while green marked the Earth Force fleet holding position above Jupiter. "I believe the Earth fleet would have a better chance if the Calvorians were distracted, sir."

"Distracted?"

Worf nodded firmly. "Facing the other way."

Picard smiled slightly, satisfied with his officers' performances. He headed back to the command chair and sat down. "Mr. Data, time until the Calvorian fleet comes within striking range?"

"Three-point-two minutes, sir."

Picard checked coordinates on the command chair's armrest panel. "Ensign Crusher, come about on course two-two-eight by three-four-one. Mister Data, generate a null field, maximum speed. Place us toward the center of the Calvorian fleet, distance of twenty thousand kilometers." The two officers answered in the affirmative, and the captain pointed a finger forward with assured certainty. "Engage!"

On the bridge of the Heavy Cruiser _Tycho Brahe_, Captain Deina Hashimi sat as calmly as she could in her command chair, trying her best not to grip its arms as she fought off the anxiety of leading such a massive fleet in battle. She had fought and won against the Calvorians numerous times in the past, but that was usually in quick, decisive skirmishes. She wasn't used to commanding an armada of such massive size, and deep down, part of her wished her ship was just another one of the Cruisers in the fleet.

But David Christenson—the captain of the _Horizon_, who would have been the leader of this barricading fleet—had disappeared along with his ship, and no one knew to where he had vanished. There were some whispers of desertion, of cowardice, but Captain Hashimi refused to believe it, even though the evidence seemed to indicate otherwise. She had never met David Christenson, but she knew his service record as well as anyone: the man had an unprecedented number of victories against enemy forces under his belt, even more than the legendary Nathaniel Kane—and yellow streaks don't just suddenly appear on the backs of true warriors like that.

As one of the most tenured captains in charge of a Heavy Cruiser near Earth, Deina had been placed in charge of the protective armada near Jupiter, and had formulated a plan which she hoped and prayed might work. Ordinarily the beautiful Middle Eastern woman had little or no use for religion of any kind, even her own…but in a circumstance such as this, she had no problem praying to Allah, the Christian god, or any other deities that might be of a mind to listen.

Her reverie was interrupted by her comm officer, who turned in his chair to face her. "Captain? We have a call from the Watch Station on Pluto. A Lieutenant-Commander Markwood."

Hashimi nodded in reception, and the comm officer tabbed a couple controls on his board without looking, then nodded to her, signaling the channel was open. "This is Captain Hashimi. We're receiving you, Watch Station."

There was a light burst of static, which the comm officer rushed to clear up as best he could. Jupiter's massive gravity was generating a moderate transpace interference net, mucking with communications just slightly. A light haze remained over the line as the young man on the other side spoke. "Captain, I'm sorry we couldn't get through the interference before. Our sensors detected the enemy fleet entering the system a few minutes ago. They've passed Saturn now, and are almost at Jupiter! My god, even at just under light speed, those things are cruising--!"

"Lieutenant," Hashimi said calmly, her own anxiety allayed by having to reach out and comfort another, "I need to know how many ships there are. What make of ships, and their E.T.A."

"Yes, Ma'am. Sorry, Captain," Markwood answered, forcing his voice to steady. "Their fleet appears to be just a few less than—" There was an abrupt pause on the line.

"Markwood--?" Deina said, sitting forward just slightly in her chair.

"Captain!" Markwood exclaimed suddenly over the comm-line, and there was an unanticipated burst of joy in his voice, "There's a disturbance at the center of the Calvorian fleet, we're picking up multiple explosions…it's the _Horizon_, Captain! David Christenson is here!"

Deina tilted her head in surprise. She couldn't help but glance up at the grated ceiling as she thought, _I promise if I get out of this, I'll start going to mosque again_.

The _Horizon_ had jumped to lightspeed within the confines of three-dimensional space via use of its null-field, which negated the entire weight of the vessel and all within. It appeared abruptly, directly above the center of the Calvorian fleet, giving them no time to prepare or raise their shields. The Heavy Cruiser targeted the nearest dreadnought and opened fire—however, these weren't lasers which struck and broke wide its hull amidships; these were _phasers_.

"Direct hit!" Worf said proudly at his tactical console aboard the flagship's bridge. The scene on the viewscreen confirmed it as a massive explosion tore wide the dreadnought's hull, exposing its skeletal framework to the cold vastness of space.

"Well done," Picard tossed the compliment to his tactics officer even as he quickly double-checked coordinates on his armrest console. "Mr. Data, come about on course one-five-nine by two-three-six! Prepare rail gun!"

"Aye sir," the android replied calmly as he quickly tabbed in commands to the helm. On the central viewscreen, the wounded dreadnought tipped away, replaced momentarily by the tapestry of stars. Then, a brief glimpse of the alien fleet—some ships were beginning to break formation as anticipated, to engage the _Horizon_—and then the immense, wounded dreadnought came into view once more.

"Four should suffice, I think, Mr. Worf," Picard said, almost cheerily. The captain didn't exactly relish combat, but it was yet another familiarity he could live with, for the moment. "_Fire!_"

Worf struck the panel on his console, and watched the targeting indicator in satisfaction as four rail gun projectiles exited the forward tubes on the _Horizon_ and penetrated in succession along the wounded dreadnought's port side, each burying themselves a good halfway inside its hull. Upon Picard's command, the Heavy Cruiser arced up and away from the ship, even as the other vessels that had broken ranks began to come about in pursuit, following the _Horizon_'s path.

Picard watched the readout on his own armrest display. "Now, Worf—detonate!"

The blackness of space lit up as if a new star had suddenly been born. The dense concentrations of explosives within the rail gun projectiles—always inert unless activated by command from the base ship—ignited, tearing apart the dreadnought in a wondrous conflagration that managed to catch three of the ships that had arced up and over the immense ship as they aped the _Horizon_'s flight path. A few of the ships in front and behind the massive vessel were caught in the blast as well, damaged moreso when the dreadnought's huge engines ignited and added to the fireworks.

"Including the dreadnought, that's five ships destroyed, three crippled, Captain," Ensign Crusher said as he smiled and winked briefly in Data's direction. The android officer didn't exactly get the meaning of Wesley's gesture, but he imitated it perfectly in return.

"One Calvorian battlecruiser still in pursuit, several more breaking ranks," Worf notified the captain. "The battlecruiser in pursuit is firing—"

Worf's words were cut off as the bridge shook violently. "Damage report?" Picard demanded. "Minor damage to aft shields near quantum engine housing one," Riker answered from his position at Ops. "No damage to engines, no casualties. Geordi's improvements of the magnetic repulsion shields are holding up nicely so far."

"Very good. Data, bring us hard about. Worf, return fire on that Calvorian ship. Let's reiterate that we mean business."

The _Horizon_ swung hard about, catching some flak from the enemy battlecruiser's masers in its mid-section, but Geordi's shields held once again. As the Heavy Cruiser came about fully to face its counterpart, the UEF ship fired its forward phasers, cutting straight through the enemy ship's shields, inflicting severe damage on its bow. Large shards and great chunks of metal flew apart, and the ship began to drift.

"Detecting no life signs on the Calvorian ship's bridge," Worf reported, satisfied. A beep from his console drew his attention quickly. "Five more ships, on a direct intercept course with us, Captain! Distance is thirty thousand kilometers and closing fast."

"Prepare a full antimatter torpedo spread—" Another beep, this time from navigation. Picard paused, waiting for Crusher to report. The young man tilted his head around to look at the captain. "Seventeen Heavy Cruisers have just jumped out of hyperspace, sir! They're part of the barricading fleet!"

"On screen!"

Wesley tabbed a panel, and the view changed from the drifting Calvorian vessel to that of a number of UEF Cruisers, their warp exits rapidly closing behind them. The image on the screen flowed smoothly as the ships seemed to pass within a hair's length of the _Horizon_, and the vessels dove into the heart of the cluster of pursuing enemy battlecruisers, opening fire upon them with lasers and antimatter torpedoes. There was another beep from Worf's console, followed by one from Troi's communication station. "The UEF fleet has moved out from behind Jupiter," Worf reported first. "They are engaging the enemy."

"Status of the enemy fleet though--?" Riker queried.

"As anticipated, our sudden arrival has thrown them into disarray," Worf noted as he checked the tactical intel being fed to him from his console. "The forward half of the fleet has come to full stop, the middle has begun to break ranks, and the aft is also at stop, awaiting orders from the main ship, which UEF files identify as the Calvorian flagship _Necrosis_." Worf turned fully to face Picard. "The enemy fleet was completely unprepared for this, Captain. The Earth fleet is engaging at full strength, and are easily locking on targets."

"Good," Picard said, then glanced at Troi. "Counselor--?"

"We're receiving a signal from UEF Command, on Earth. General Hackert."

Picard raised an eyebrow and shared a semi-amused look with Riker. "Well, this should be interesting."

"No doubt," the first officer remarked as Picard first ordered Data to move the _Horizon_ to a safe distance away from the fray, then told Deanna to put the signal through to the viewscreen. As each officer replied in the affirmative, Picard stood and noted to himself that on this ship, he could feel the deck plates vibrating as the vessel picked up speed. He had to contain a smile; years ago as a cadet, he had visited the Fleet Museum and had gone aboard a reconstruction of the Constitution-class _Enterprise_. During the visit, a simulator duplicated a powering up of the ship's decommissioned engines, and what it felt like to go to warp speed. During those days, one with a well-trained sensitivity to the vessel could tell what speed the ship traveled by feeling the vibrations of the deck plates. Here now, aboard the _Horizon_, the sensation was much the same.

"Mister Data, we're traveling at about point five under lightspeed, aren't we?" Picard queried. Data looked at the captain, and the android made the closest approximation to surprise he had ever seen. "Yes, sir. We are. Should I increase or decrease speed, sir?"

Picard waved him off, still fighting back the smile. "Steady as she goes, Mr. Data."

"Transmission coming in now, sir," Troi announced.

The stars changed from a view of their eternal serenity to that of a flustered General Hackert, shaking his head in amazement. "Picard, you must be a handful where you come from! Unless I'm suddenly going senile, I could have sworn I told you to hold position and wait for those escort ships!"

"I'm noting a lot of recommendations in my log today, General. I'll be sure to put yours on the list." And now Picard couldn't help it; the smile broke through.

General Hackert huffed angrily, but it was somewhat half-hearted. He picked up a dsp from the desk he was sitting behind and pressed a couple panels on it. "The Joint Chiefs have been monitoring your appearance closely since you popped in on the party and yelled 'surprise' early. What was that weapon you fired initially? It didn't quite register as a laser…"

"They're called _phasers_, General. A minor modification my chief engineer made to the _Horizon_'s systems, along with an improvement to the magnetic repulsion forcefields you employ. Surprisingly, your technology isn't that far behind what we're used to working with. Unfortunately the _Horizon_ doesn't quite carry the energy capacity necessary to upgrade her lasers to Galaxy-class standards, but we did the best we could."

"Did the best you could," Hackert repeated, rubbing his thumb across his lower lip thoughtfully. He leaned forward in his chair. "Picard, why do I get the feeling I owe you money for this?"

"Not at all, General," Picard said modestly. "We're simply looking for a way back to our own time, our own universe. If helping to keep your Earth free entices Q to give up on this little game of his, I'm all for it."

"Worf," Riker said softly so as not to intrude on the captain's conversation, the first officer standing and heading over to the Klingon officer's console, "How's the fleet doing?"

Worf quickly checked the UEF fleet's status and nodded at Will. "They're acquitting themselves well." The Klingon paused, uncertain if he should say anything further. When Riker shrugged his shoulders quizzically, he exhaled and continued, "I don't know why, but…I get the _sense_…that we've made a difference here. I don't know how."

Riker nodded slowly, feeling a chill briefly run down his spine. "I thought Deanna was supposed to be the empath, but…I feel it too."

"You still think this was all the work of your other-dimensional imp, Captain?" Hackert was saying, when an alert signal sounded at the tactical console. Worf and Riker both checked it, their eyes going wide simultaneously. "Captain!" the Klingon said first, breaking into Picard's conversation with Hackert. The captain turned to face him.

"Sir…there is a massive gravimetric disturbance opening up in the space near us. Forty-five thousand kilometers, port side!"

"Divide the screen," Picard ordered.

Worf worked his console swiftly. On the viewscreen, Hackert's image was moved to one side, as on the other, an image of what looked like a large, swirling pool of darkness opened up, blocking the stars behind it. The rift opened wider, wider…then finally halted in its expanse and maintained something resembling a standard size as its outer edges swirled around and around, like the outer edge of water draining down a sink.

"What is it…?" Deanna said, asking anyone within earshot as much as simply wondering aloud.

"It is not like any temporal or interdimensional rift we have encountered before," Data replied from helm as he attempted to scan the opening, where incredibly enough, stars were forming inside, but as seen from a great distance, like looking through a window on a cloudy night. "Sensors cannot read it…exactly," Data offered tentatively.

"What can they tell us?" Riker said somewhat impatiently as he moved to stand beside Picard between the command chair and the forward consoles. Data checked and re-checked his information as he reported, "The aperture _appears_ to be some sixty-five thousand kilometers in width. There is no true density to it, as it _seems_ to be not truly a part of the space that is visible. It is neither a black hole nor a wormhole. It does not emit radiation of any kind, nor are any types of quantifiable energies escaping from it. The stars we see forming are not the ones which should be visible behind the opening. Captain…" Data paused, rechecking his intel one last time, "Those are the stars of _our_ solar system."

Picard's eyes widened as he and Riker took another step forward together. "You're certain--?" the captain said, not daring to get his or his crew's hopes up.

Data nodded and turned partway in his chair to look at Picard. "The _Horizon_'s sensors are able to peer directly through the aperture. The stars visible through that opening give off the exact harmonal frequency micro-pulsations native to our own universe, matching that of our own bodies. The variances between our universe's micro-pulsations and this one are different to within zero-point-two meters-per-second squared, but they are different. That is our universe we are seeing."

"Captain…!" Wesley gasped at navigation, his voice almost choking in his throat as he pointed at the viewscreen. Picard squinted but couldn't quite make out what he was seeing. "Data, magnify!"

The android tabbed a couple of panels at helm, and Hackert's face shrunk significantly as the image on the right side of the split screen widened and closed in. Picard could swear he felt his heart skip a beat as fear clutched at it, trying to gain a firm hold.

Just visible inside the aperture, hanging suspended, was a Borg cube.


	6. Chapter 5

**STAR TREK/THE REIGN: HIVE MIND**

Fan fiction Crossover by Lance Berry

CHAPTER 5: OUT OF THE FRYING PAN…

"And I'm just supposed to let you leave with our flagship?" General Hackert was saying in astonishment, not quite certain he had heard Picard correctly.

"General," Picard replied as quickly yet as civilly as he could manage, "What lies on the other side of that tear in space will make fighting the Calvorians the equivalent of taking on a pack of kindergarteners, should that ship choose to enter your dimension. Even with the upgrade my engineer has made to the _Horizon_'s systems, I'm not sure if we can stop it. I am certain though, that your Heavy Cruisers, at their current power levels, are nowhere near up to the task! We have to take the _Horizon_ through that opening and at least attempt to keep the Borg on that side. They've already done enough damage in our universe—we can't allow them to cross into another!"

Hackert considered Picard's words, his demeanor, very cautiously. He checked something on his dsp, then said, "In spite of the rocky start we got off to, I can tell you're a damn fine captain, Jean-Luc. The three Heavy Cruisers that were supposed to detain you—the _Prestige_, _Brooksfield _and _Atlantis_—are only moments away from the battle site. I'll order them to rendezvous with you instead, escort you through to your reality and aid you in any way necessary."

"With all due respect, General, you need every ship available to—"

"The battle's going well enough," Hackert said firmly, cutting him off. "And if these 'Borg' are as deadly as you say they are,_ you're_ going to need all the help you can get. Transmit the schematics on the tactical upgrades you made to the _Horizon_, and I'll send it to those three ships. Once they're through the aperture with you, they'll be under your command until they return—_with_ the _Horizon_—to this universe. Perhaps once this is over, our cooperation will have made this Q more amenable to returning Captain Christenson and his crew to us."

Picard nodded in deference. "Let's hope so, General. We'll also send information on the Borg…just in case."

Hackert sighed lightly and sat back in his chair. "I have to thank you for your aid, Captain. You may not be David Christenson, but you came through as surely as he would have, when you had no obligation to. If by some chance you're not able to keep the Borg out of our realm, don't worry; they will pay some cost for tangling with us." He smiled, certainly, then said, "Good luck, Captain Picard."

"Thank you, General. _Horizon_ out."

With that, the viewscreen switched fully to a view of the gaping interdimensional aperture, the Borg cube still holding position on the other side. Oddly enough, the cube hadn't moved forward at all…it simply stayed in place, as if waiting for something. Picard looked at it uneasily, then turned to Worf. "Lieutenant…send all information to General Hackert, as requested."

Worf tabbed a couple panels on the security console, then looked at the captain. "Transmitted, sir. And sensors show the three Heavy Cruisers assigned to us have just entered the system."

"We're being hailed, Captain," Deanna said from her post at communications. "The Heavy Cruiser _Atlantis_, audio only."

"Let's hear it," Picard said as he reclaimed his chair. There was a moment's pause as Deanna worked her controls, and then a strong-sounding woman's voice came over the comm-line: "Captain…Picard? This is Captain Charlotte Blancq, commanding the _Atlantis_."

"Picard here, Captain."

"General Hackert informed us very quickly of your situation, and he's just sent over the tactical schematics, so I guess we're going to make adjustments on the fly. We're under your command until we take out this 'Borg' of yours. Afterward, you and your crew are to make whatever arrangements you can to transfer to whatever other ship or planetary base you may be familiar with in your own realm, because the General wants the _Horizon_ back." Blancq's tone left no room for debate of any kind.

"Captain, I am well aware of the General's terms," Picard said patiently. "Be aware, however, that the Borg are without a doubt the most significant enemy you have ever faced. My suggestion is that if the tide turns fiercely against us, if your ship possesses a self-destruct function, you may wish to use it, rather than let a single Borg soldier infiltrate your ship."

"Captain, when one of our ships self-destructs, it leaves a two light-year circumference of space completely uninhabitable for two solar years. Trust me, if the tide turns against us, I'll give you the signal to jump to warp so you can get out of the way."

Picard raised an eyebrow. "I'll look for your flare. Let's get underway, then." He checked coordinates on his armrest console, then said, "All ships, move to heading four-one-one by three-seven-six. The _Horizon_ will head into the aperture first, with the _Atlantis_ and _Brooksfield_ just aft of our port and starboard sides respectively. The _Prestige_ will follow directly astern of us, and I urge you all to be prepared to engage the enemy as soon as we cross over."

Picard gave the Borg cube one last look, pushing down his fear deep inside as he said, "Mr. Data, move us into position and take us in."

"Aye, sir," Data said as he easily worked his helm console. On the viewscreen, the aperture began to grow closer, its maw seeming to widen, preparing to swallow the Heavy Cruiser and its sister ships, much like the whale swallowed Jonah in that biblical tale.

Seated at the Ops console, Riker tabbed in a few short commands, bringing up a tactical view of the battle site near Jupiter, where the United Earth Force fleet was engaging the Calvorian Alliance's ships. The UEF fleet was taking some heavy casualties, but they had also managed to disable no less than five of the dreadnoughts in the enemy's pack. "Good luck, folks," was all Will could manage to say, and wondered for just a moment if perhaps the captain could convince Starfleet to spare a few ships in return for the aid they were receiving, once the Borg were dealt with. Will had recently been offered command of the _Melbourne_, which he had declined…but for a cause as worthy as this, he would gladly accept charge if he had the chance to come back and aid these people.

As the _Horizon_ drew closer to the opening, it became apparent to all that the interior of the aperture resembled more of a tunnel as they got a better look at it. A swirling miasma of darkness occasionally highlighted by bright bolts of energy charges which looked like lightning, if one was of a mind to romanticize such things. The _Horizon_ moved closer, ever closer, entered…

"Captain!" Worf said in concern, then turned his head to face him. "The three Earth Force ships are _not_ following us in!"

"We're receiving a transmission from Captain Blancq," Deanna announced. "There's terrible interference though!" Without waiting, the counselor keyed in some simple commands to her board. A quick, terrible screech almost overloaded the ODC speakers, but it quickly died down to a thick, persistent static which intruded upon Captain Blancq's words:

"…tain Picard! …is…Blancq! Our ships…trying to…aperture, ….something's blocking us! We're…to enter…can't! …get through! …hear me, Picard?"

"This is the _Horizon_, I hear you, Captain! Can you hear me?"

"Sir, the aperture is closing behind us," Data announced.

"On screen!"

The viewscreen image instantly shifted to an aft view behind the _Horizon_. Surely enough, the interdimensional rift was closing, cutting off all view of the three escort ships, the battle site behind them…everything. Within mere seconds, it had closed entirely, and all that was left were the stars.

"Damn Q!" Wesley uncharacteristically swore, but then winced when he realized he had. He looked over his shoulder at the captain. "Sorry, sir."

Picard shook his head. "No, no, Ensign…I share the sentiment whole-heartedly. I haven't the faintest as to what Q's gaming on, but we are truly on our own."

A heavy silence settled onto the _Horizon_'s bridge momentarily, but it was soon broken as Data announced, "Reading harmonious micro-pulsations across the board, Captain. We are now fully in our own universe."

"Forward view."

Data tabbed another panel on the helm console. The viewscreen switched to a shot of the Borg cube, holding position above a moon. All around it were the wrecked, desiccated corpses of starships, and something else…something that made the jaws of nearly every officer on the bridge drop to the floor…

Counselor Troi was the first to acknowledge the horrible truth of what they saw, and was unable to keep the astonishment from her voice. "Is that…is that the _Enterprise_?"

On the viewscreen, moving through the wreckage of the ships, striking at the ruined hulls with a green Borg laser in order to ensure there were no survivors, was the _Enterprise_…now covered from stem to stern in Borg power distribution nodes, processing conduits and other cyber-organic tech. Aside from its distinctive shape, the starship was otherwise unrecognizable as a Federation vessel.

"The ship has been completely assimilated," Worf reported from his console, and even he was unable to keep the surprise from his voice. "I am reading 951 personnel aboard, all assimilated. They are all Borg."

"Wait," Picard said suddenly. "951 crewmen? The _Horizon_'s complement is 952, isn't it?"

"Yes…yes, it is," Deanna answered first.

Riker got to his feet. "Then what happened to that one crewmember? Killed?"

"Or taken…" Picard said thoughtfully. "Taken for whatever reason. It doesn't make sense, that a Borg incursion upon any vessel could lead to only the loss of one life. The Borg don't kill when assimilating, unless threatened. And with what we've seen of that other universe, I'd imagine Captain Christenson's crew putting up far more of a fight. Far more of a threat."

Riker nodded in agreement. "There'd be greater casualties, if anything…not less."

"Right, Number One. Ensign Crusher—_where_ are we, exactly?" The captain demanded, then glanced at Data and Worf in turn as he said, "Data, hold this position. Worf, scan the Borg cube, tell me _why_ it's holding position like that!"

The officers all rushed to carry out the captain's orders. In turn, the answers were:

"Holding position, sir. Ninety-five thousand kilometers away from the cube."

"We're in the Sol system, Captain. The cube is holding position above Earth's moon. Lunar defenses have been knocked out."

"Sir, I am picking up a great amount of power being directed within the center of the Borg cube."

"Directed at what?"

Worf shook his head in frustration. "Unknown, sir. Whatever it is, the Borg seem to be fully distracted by it. Apparently, the _Enterprise_ is operating as a point guard, ensuring the safety of the cube while the Borg commit their energies to whatever they're doing."

Picard and Riker exchanged a look. "I hate to interrupt them while they're in the shower," Will said, "but I'd say it's time to pay the Borg a visit."

Picard smiled slyly and nodded. "Agreed, Number One. Unfortunately, this ship has no transporters, so you'll have to take one of their troop transports and make your way aboard the cube. I hate placing you in such a perilous position, Will—"

"We'll be fine, sir," Riker broke in, doing his best to deliver an offhand smile of reassurance for his captain and friend.

"Just so, Number One," the captain said, then turned and took his chair. "Mr. Crusher, bring us about to heading three-five-three by two-three-nine. We'll swing around the cube, dropping off Commander Riker's team. Then we'll hold off the _Enterprise_…for as long as we can."

"Aye, sir," Wesley replied, making the course adjustments.

Riker headed for the lift. "Worf, Deanna—you're with me." Upon the counselor's puzzled look, Riker added, "I just get the feeling we might have need of your empathic touch."

Worf had sent the signal for other duty-shift crewmembers to replace them at their stations, and before the trio had finished entering the lift they were replaced by three crewmen descended from the tactical section above, the topmost portion of the three-tiered bridge. "Coming about on heading 353 by 239, sir," Ensign Crusher reported as the lift doors closed behind the away team.

"Sir, the _Enterprise_ has come about and is on an intercept course," Data stated casually, as if preparing to square off against a Borgified version of their own ship were an everyday occurrence.

_What I wouldn't give to not possess emotions right now_, Picard thought as he observed the android. What he said instead was, "Then I guess it's time to see if Mr. La Forge's assertions about this ship being able to go toe-to-toe with our own are accurate."


	7. Chapter 6

**STAR TREK/THE REIGN: HIVE MIND**

Fan fiction Crossover by Lance Berry

CHAPTER 6: INTO THE FIRE

Riker, Worf and Troi had stopped by the _Horizon_'s armory to supply themselves with Zuk-Lar .40 blasters and personalized hand-held scanners before heading to the launch bay on deck 23, where they were greeted by Miles O'Brien, who usually served as transporter chief aboard the _Enterprise_.

"Running the launch bay now, Chief?" Riker asked. O'Brien gestured to one of the dozen boxy-looking troop transports, yet found himself rushing to keep pace with the commander's long strides as the group headed toward it.

"Doing whatever I can just to fit in, sir," O'Brien commented, then said, "Commander, whatever the Borg are doing over there, they're rerouting a lot of power from some of their central systems to do it. That additional power has caused a minor disruption in the cube's electromagnetic field, making it easily vulnerable to penetration, which is probably why the _Enterprise_ is playing nanny to it. I've programmed coordinates into the onboard computer of this transport," the chief said as he pointed to the craft, the doors of which opened automatically as they approached. "There's one specific area near the disturbance where if you blast it open, you should be able to land safely inside the cube and make your way to your target with relatively little resistance."

"Little resistance?" Riker said skeptically. He halted at the ship's entrance, O'Brien and the others halting as well. "As near as I can tell, Commander," O'Brien responded, "once you blow a hole in that ship, you should be taking out quite a few Borg as well."

"Acknowledged, Chief," Riker said with a thoughtful nod of understanding. He glanced at Deanna, whose breathing had become noticeably heavier. "You okay?"

Deanna took a deep breath and exhaled. She nodded, trying to feign some confidence, but failed miserably. "I've never been aboard a Borg ship. From everything I've heard, it's not someplace one _wants_ to go."

Riker shook his head slowly and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Deanna stopped shaking instantly and he told her, "It's not. But we have to find a way to knock out their controls, and unfortunately, this is probably the best and only way to do it. Just stick close to me and Worf, and keep your weapon ready at all times."

"O-okay."

"Counselor," Worf said and she brought her attention to him. "I will die myself, before allowing you to fall into the hands of the Borg."

To her own surprise, Troi smiled. "I know, Worf. Thank you."

Riker removed his hand from Troi's shoulder and took a light, surreptitious breath himself as he faced O'Brien. "Hopefully we'll see you again soon, Chief. Thank you."

"Good luck, sir," O'Brien said grimly, then headed off to the flight commander's booth as Riker led his people inside the transport.

Once inside, Will sat in the pilot's chair with Worf as co-pilot to his right. Deanna glanced around at all the handguns and Vaughn-Koch VK-12 Blastrifles all tucked snugly into a gun rack against one wall. "Look at this, we didn't even need to stop at the armory. "

Riker glanced back at her and the wall she was indicating for a split second, then went back to making a pre-flight check to assure himself that he was familiar enough with these systems. Deanna sat down in one of the rows of passenger seats, but her eyes were drawn to the armament once more. "I'm glad we're not facing off against these people. They really come prepared for a fight."

"Don't allow yourself to be distracted," Worf said sternly, not looking at her as he continued with his half of the pre-flight check. "Soon enough, you will have all the combat you could ever desire."

Riker shot Worf a stern look to remind the Klingon that perhaps talking about fighting the Borg wasn't the best way to keep the counselor calm. Worf said nothing as he caught the glare, but went back to his pre-flight check.

"Well I for one wish this ship had transporters," Riker said. "Blasting into the cube like this…not the most subtle move we could make." He realized abruptly that his statement was no more sensitive than Worf's had been, so he closed his mouth and finished the check just as the launch bay doors began to open. The transport shook abruptly, and the three officers shared a concerned look as they realized it was because the _Horizon_ had just been struck, more than likely by a blast from the _Enterprise_. Riker tabbed a panel, and the transport doors closed with an assertive pneumatic _–whumpf!-_

"Let's get ready for liftoff," Will said urgently as he began powering up the transport.

"Shields holding at ninety-two percent," Wesley announced as the _Horizon_ recovered from the enhanced Borg laser the _Enterprise_ had just blasted them with.

"Target them with aft energy rammers, Mr. Data," Picard said reluctantly. He had no wish to damage his own ship, but there was simply no choice. Referring to the _Enterprise_ and its Collective-controlled crew as "them" however, helped give Picard an emotional distance from the situation, albeit only a slight one. "Fire!"

Larger, more coherent energy bolts shot out of five large energy cannons placed at various points toward the _Horizon_'s rear. The bolts impacted with the _Enterprise_'s modified Borg shields, the majority of which did no damage. The last blast, however, managed to penetrate and blew a fair portion of energy conduits free from the Federation flagship.

"Moderate damage to the _Enterprise_," the tactical officer who had replaced Worf at the console reported. "Their shields are down to eighty-seven percent, but are quickly regenerating." The young black officer turned partway in his chair to face Picard. "I don't think the energy rammers will have the same effect next shot, sir."

"Duly noted, Lieutenant," Picard replied, but then his brow furrowed as a thought came to him. He stood and quickly strode over to the helm. "Data…do you think you can manage to steer the ship clear of the next blast? Dodge it?"

It took Data only a nano-second to consider the question, calculate the probabilities and respond, "I believe so, sir."

"Then as we come around on the Borg cube. Do you understand?"

Data nodded. "I do."

Picard tabbed his comm-badge without thinking about it as he turned and headed back to the command chair. "Picard to Riker."

"Riker here."

"Slight change of plan, Number One. The _Enterprise_ is going to blast a hole through the Borg cube for us. Are you ready to launch? You're going to need to act on a split-second's notice."

"We're ready, sir!"

"Standby."

"_Enterprise_ is powering up…" the tactical officer said.

"Data…"

"On it, sir."

The _Enterprise_ attempted to close the distance on the _Horizon_ as it fired another green enhanced Borg phaser. With dexterity and reflexes that would have made the legendary god of speed, Mercury, green with envy, Data tabbed in commands to the _Horizon_'s helm console and the mighty Heavy Cruiser lolled to its port side with a speed belying its massive, mile-and-a-half long bulk. As the bolt flashed past, the Heavy Cruiser's launch bay doors opened and the transport carrying Riker and his away team dove out just in time for all aboard to witness the beam crash into the Borg cube and accidentally blast a gaping entry hole into it.

Riker aimed the transport straight for the hole and pushed the vessel to its top sublight speed, just below the threshold of the speed of light. "The hole's already beginning to seal!" Worf said in astonishment. "I can see that," Riker snapped. "Just hold on!"

The transport shot inside the hole, shattered and rent Borg bodies bouncing ineffectually off its hull as the vacuum of space pulled them into its cold embrace. As darkness enveloped the transport momentarily, Riker's eyes darted between the transport's forward viewport and his board's sensor readings, which prodded him to move forward while warning him not to alter course in the slightest. Finally, the eerie greenish half-light within the Borg cube became more enhanced, and several large gantries were visible. With the sensors guiding him, Riker managed to safely touch the transport down on one that was just wide enough to accommodate the vessel, although the whine of straining metal which emanated from the gantry did nothing to comfort him.

"The hole has sealed fully behind us," Worf informed them both as his co-pilot's board gave off an announcing beep. "On the positive, the atmosphere outside has already stabilized. We won't need environmental suits."

"Good, they'll only slow us down," Riker said as he checked his own Zuk-Lar. The weapon had no stun setting, as it was designed to fire concentrated pellets of antimatter. _What kind of world is it these people live in, where they can't even spare their enemies' lives? _Will thought, but then shrugged and set it aside as he focused on the task at hand. "Let's get to the nerve center where the disturbance is, and find out what all the ruckus is about."

In her alcove at the heart of the cube, the Borg Queen watched her four-sided holographic display with a detached indifference as William T. Riker, Worf and Counselor Deanna Troi quickly disembarked from the troop transport. Troi used the personalized scanner she carried, then pointed dead ahead—in the direction of the alcove. As the trio moved forward, the Queen kept an eye on them within her mind as she turned back to her greatest prize. She stood in front of the modified experiment table where Travis Rand was strapped down and placed inside a highly durable crystalline structure.

"More friends have come to play, Travis," the Queen said as she caressed the crystal's smooth surface. From within the protective covering, Rand shifted his eyes toward her and attempted to articulate words, though his mouth was stuffed with bio-mechanical tubes and nodes plugged deep into his throat and reaching around to the inside of the back of his head, tapping into his cerebral cortex. "What's that--? You wish to speak? Very well…I'll allow it," she said with a devious smile as the tubes temporarily disconnected from his nerve centers and harshly retracted from his mouth. The _Horizon_'s captain gasped and coughed as non-processed air entered his lungs for the first time in hours. He spat up some more nano-bile, and was barely able to turn his head to the side enough to let it flow out of his mouth and down his neck and shoulders to keep from choking on it. Finally he turned his head back to face her, his eyes burning with a hatred he had never felt for any living being before in his entire life. "I…get out…of…here…going to…kill you…"

The Borg Queen tilted her head quizzically and regarded him silently a moment. "I believe you would try," she said, and there was almost a type of admiration in her voice. "However, I am not about to let that happen. You are the greatest treasure and mystery I have ever encountered, Travis. I dissected you, reconstructed and dissected you again fifteen times. I have injected your body repeatedly with a combined total of one hundred thousand, five hundred and seventy-four nano-probes. Yet your magnificent body has rejected every last one of them. But it is only a matter of time before your strange cells give up their fight and you become one of my children. But you will not be an ordinary drone. Your secrets—your knowledge of this 'Q', whom I have never heard of in spite of all the millions of races I have assimilated, will give me virtually unlimited abilities. And once I have assimilated this power, that shall be the key to entering your universe and assimilating every life form there as well."

In spite of the agony his body had undergone, Travis couldn't help but laugh. "You think…you can…'similate something like…Q? You're an…idiot, lady…"

The Queen stood erect once more. "No, Travis. You see, every type of energy in the universe leaves some manner of residual, quantifiable signature behind, which is capable of being analyzed. Even the Q cannot simply expend energy and have it not leave some type of trace behind. It's just that your limited human senses and sensors can't detect it. But it is a simple law of physics: matter and energy cannot simply be created or destroyed. They convert. Therefore, it will only take time and patience to uncover the mystery of the Q. Once I have assimilated their power, it will give me the ability to more easily assimilate other life forms in a…less messy…manner than physical confrontation. You will see. You will come on the voyage of discovery with me."

The Queen turned her head ever so slightly to her left. "Come in, Commander Riker. Lieutenant Worf. Counselor Troi. I know your exact positions, hiding behind the beams and conduits eighteen meters to my left. Every inch of this ship is a part of me. You may as well attempt to hold my hand and hope I don't feel it. Welcome."

With that, Riker and his two officers stepped out from three of the supporting beams, located exactly where the Queen had said they would be. Riker led them forward cautiously, their Zuk-Lars aimed squarely at her. "You know who we are," Riker said as he looked her over in fascination. "But who are you?" There was something about her striking appearance, something darkly seductive. He felt dirty just thinking about her in that manner, but he almost couldn't help himself.

"I am the Borg," the Queen said and spread her arms wide. "Welcome home." And as soon as she finished saying it, no less than eighteen Borg drones teleported into existence, blocking the exit out of the alcove, and surrounding Riker and his team. Worf spun around, preparing to fire at the closest drone, but Riker placed a steadying hand on his arm, staying his blast.

"Don't fire!" The commander ordered them both. "She's not going to assimilate us yet. She knows we're curious about what's going on here."

"Indeed," the Queen said and glanced at her holographic display, which was showing Riker and his team in their current predicament, surrounded by drones. The image changed to that of the _Horizon_, beset upon by the Borgified _Enterprise_. The UEF ship had taken heavy damage and its shields were flashing desperately as blast upon blast from the former Federation flagship assailed it. Most blasts were deflected, but some found their way through the shields, blasting chunks of hull plating from its side.

"As you can see, the _Horizon_ shall soon be lost. I have neutralized almost all defense grids within your solar system: Mars and Luna cannot send any more forces against me. Earth is attempting to marshal whatever paltry forces it has, but so many of your starships are so very far away, some on the other side of the galaxy," she said, a mocking pity within her voice. "That's the problem when one wanders so far away from home: You can't get back fast enough if there's trouble."

As the Queen spoke, Troi moved closer to Riker, and reached out to hold his hand. The commander almost started to pull away, as this wasn't the time for trying to comfort anyone

when they had to find a way out of this threat. But a tingle shot up Riker's spine as he heard a single word spoken within his head: _Imzadi_.

It was Deanna's voice, spoken to him telepathically, in the manner in which she used to be able to communicate with him years ago when he was stationed on her home world Betazed and they had fallen in love. It had been three long years since she had addressed him in that way, when they were first reunited aboard the _Enterprise_. The connection was apparently still there—truly, a connection between two former lovers such as they could never be broken—but there was a desperate urgency in the counselor's voice, and Riker suddenly knew that she wasn't reaching out to him for comfort.

_She's not as confident as she sounds_, Deanna whispered inside his head. _She's hiding something…fear! _According to the counselor's tone, it was as much a revelation to Deanna as it was to him. _That man inside the crystal…it's not David Christenson, but she is deathly afraid of him being set free! He's the key to __everything__!_

"…and so, before I assimilate you, I understand there must be some final questions you have," the Borg Queen was saying. "Since you will neither have nor desire independence much longer, I will allow you these final moments of free will. Ask your questions, Commander Riker."

Riker nodded slowly, more in understanding of Troi's message than anything the Queen had said, as he released his hand from Deanna's. "Actually, I didn't come here to talk," he said, then brought his Zuk-Lar .40 up and sent several pellets of antimatter right at her!

The Borg Queen took a reflexive step back and threw her hand up, barely in time. A force shield appeared and took the brunt of the impact, but it crackled fiercely and weakened under the assault. This was antimatter alright, but its universal micro-pulsations—0.2 percent difference, as Data had stated earlier—were just different enough that the Queen couldn't adapt to it fast enough. She staggered back another step, and glared at Riker.

The Borg drones moved forward. Worf and Troi spun around and began firing, taking out one after another while Riker rushed forward. The Borg Queen took another step back and threw up another force screen around herself…leaving Travis Rand's crystalline prison wide open. Riker stood before it and pointed the Zuk-Lar toward the mid-section of the crystal coffin…

"NO!" The Queen screamed, but before she could erect a screen around the cocoon, Riker fired—taking no chances, he sent off seven shots at the crystal, which exploded in a spray of deadly shards, which the first officer just managed to dodge as he dove out of the way and fell behind a large conduit.

Popping and snapping sounds. One after the other. Crystalline dust was in the air, covering the experiment table upon which Travis Rand rested. But through the dust, Riker could see bio-mechanical tubes popping or snapping free into the air, one after the other. Black liquid sprayed geyser-like from some of them; a creamy, pus-colored goo overflowed from the tops of others and leaked down their sides. There was a growl from the table…deep, almost animalistic, and filled with an anger that would have given any rational being pause before choosing to encounter the one that emitted the sound. The Borg Queen lowered her arm in a type of stupefaction, though her personal shield remained in place…

Travis Rand sat up as the dust cleared around him, multiple lacerations and scars across the entirety of his body. With the exception of his black shorts, he was otherwise naked, but even in spite of his scars and several holes in his arms and legs where the tubes had been inserted, he still appeared to be a prime physical specimen. He got up on shaky legs which quickly gave way beneath him. He fell to his knees, but still kept his baleful stare focused exclusively on the Borg Queen, who was held immobile by it, uncertain how to respond for the first time in her existence.

"Will!"

Riker turned to see Worf and Troi standing back to back, firing their Zuk-Lars at the drones, still advancing even though their mistress was petrified. The two officers had managed to drop at least half a dozen soldiers, but as Troi fired again, a more powerful force screen popped up in front of one of the Borg and held out against the antimatter. They had adapted.

But perhaps not to Will's gun, not yet. He got to his feet, about to leave cover to aid his comrades…

"Riker!"

Will stopped and turned to face Rand. The _Horizon_'s captain tilted his chin toward a point somewhere off to the right. "Jacket pocket…phaser…give it to me!" Will turned and saw the captain's black uniform suspended by cables. Riker darted toward it and hurriedly searched the jacket pockets. Sure enough, there was a Type II phaser pistol tucked neatly into one of them…obviously with this stranger neutralized, the Borg believed the phaser was no threat. Which meant, possibly, that it hadn't been fired and they hadn't had a chance to adapt to it.

Will Riker spun on his heel and ran forward, tossing the phaser to the stranger as he passed by, on his way to help Worf and Troi. He saw out of the corner of his eye that the black man managed to catch it deftly, in spite of his wounds and shuddering body. Riker took a flying leap into one of the drones advancing on Deanna, taking it down hard to the metal floor. He jumped up and stomped on it behind the ear, crushing its skull beneath his boot heel, then whirled around and fired, satisfied for the moment that his weapon was still capable of incinerating a couple of drones.

"Will…" Deanna said as she saw more drones advancing from around a corner of the alcove.

"I know, Deanna…I know."

Travis Rand got to his feet, the seething anger within him giving him the power to rise steadily once more. He looked at the Borg Queen, who stared at him in puzzlement, wondering what he would do, even while she kept her force screen erected.

Travis held up the phaser for her to see. "Type II phaser. I can't fire this at you, because you'll adapt to it eventually. But you know what's interesting about this device," he said, and began tabbing in commands to its key pad beam controls, "Is that it has one specific feature which the guns Riker and his people are using, don't have: the ability to go into overload." He finished tabbing in commands, and a low whine began to emit from the phaser.

The Borg Queen chuckled somewhat self-consciously. "You wouldn't dare."

Rand smiled, but the smile didn't touch his eyes in the slightest. It was a dark smile, viper-like. "You weren't able to assimilate me, but you've been inside my mind deeply enough to know that I'm not bluffing. And even if you're not sure about that, you've assimilated my friends, my comrades, and all their memories. What do their memories, their combined knowledge of me, tell you about whether or not I'm lying? Look into Ben Williams' memories in particular, and find out what experiments I underwent recently in my own universe. Let me know if I'm bluffing."

Deanna's reflexes took over and she was able to utilize the martial arts Worf had taught her and other _Enterprise_ crew members in class. She grabbed the arm of one drone and used its own body weight against it to tumble it back into several of its fellows, bringing them down. Her ears pricked up at the sound of the low whine from where the stranger and the Borg Queen were standing, a whine that was beginning to grow in intensity. "Is he doing what I think he's doing--?!" she said to either of her comrades.

"He is," Worf said as he snapped the neck of a drone, hoisted the fresh corpse over his head and threw it into a group of advancing soldiers. "He is a true warrior, able to accept death before surrender," the Klingon said with admiration. "He knows that today is a good day to die."

The Borg Queen accessed the memories of Ben Williams in a millisecond, found the doctor's discussion with Rand about the painful and intensely intimate experiments Rand's own government had performed on him, and Williams' subsequent examination of the captain in order to help him find and dislodge the gene that had been implanted within him. The doctor had been no more successful than she had been, but had come to the same conclusions she now did, as to whether Rand would be willing to die before ever undergoing something like that again.

"My shield will protect me!" she insisted desperately.

"Will it?" Rand said, holding up the phaser more clearly for her to see, as its power level readout climbed steadily and the whining began to increase to a near deafening crescendo. "When this thing goes off, the explosion will annihilate _everything_ in this chamber, and probably a few walls behind it. Remember, through our forced semi-symbiosis, I have some of your memories too. I'm betting Picard will pick that moment to fire the _Horizon_'s lasers into this weakened chamber and finish the job."

"We are the Borg!" she cried, retreating two steps back regardless, her shield moving back with her, her bravado gone. "Your willingness to die is illogical! Your tenacity to cling to singular will, your resistance, if futile!"

Rand shook his head. "Not if it takes you with me."

The Borg Queen pointed behind Rand, a triumphant sneer on her face. "Look! Look! Your comrades fall before me!"

Rand spared a glance. Indeed, Troi and Riker fell to the ground as Borg soldiers injected them with nano-probes. Worf was the last holdout, fighting against several soldiers who were weighing him down. He had sworn to Deanna he would die before letting her fall to the Borg, and had failed in his oath. An anguished growl rose from his throat as he fought to reach her side, to break her neck before the probes changed her fully…! But finally one of the soldiers injected distribution nodes into the Klingon's spine, and with a howl of defeat, he fell to the deck.

The twelve or so remaining drones turned as one toward Rand and the Queen and began advancing. Rand aimed the phaser and quickly set it on wide dispersal. He fired twice, and as the phaser was locked at setting 16, he obliterated the entire group of drones from existence. The phaser wine decreased significantly, but then began to pick up once again as he casually turned back to the Queen. "Oh, well," he said with a shrug. "I'm sure it'll take you a moment or two to get more drones in here. In the meantime, why don't we discuss my whole 'fuck the Borg' platform that I stand on."

The Queen's eyes narrowed. "Humans. No matter what universe you hail from, you are the most puzzling and frustrating life form I have ever encountered." She paused, glancing at the phaser. The whine seemed to be picking up more quickly. "What do you want?!" she shouted over the incessant high-pitched buzzing as the readout meter counted upward toward its final decisive end.

Rand took a step forward. "I want my crew back. I want you to leave the Federation alone. I want you to leave my universe alone. We've already established there's nothing you can do to stop me, so as long as I'm alive, I'm going to be ready to smash your civilization to the ground if you so much as glance in my reality's direction. Do we understand each other?"

The Borg Queen stared at him for a long moment. Not since before the inception of the Collective, when she had been a humble systems programmer that had created a revolutionary new concept for A.I., had she experienced rage at anything or anyone. But now, she remembered the feeling, for that was what she felt when she looked at this man. "We understand one another, Travis Rand," she finally said.

The overhead lights on the _Horizon_'s bridge had gone out, and the much dimmer emergency lights had come on. The central viewscreen was thick with static, yet the Borg cube loomed large on the screen, seeming to sway this way and that…when it was actually the _Horizon_ that was pitching and yawing from port to starboard and back again, trying unsuccessfully to dodge the enhanced phasers from the _Enterprise_. Although Data and Wesley still piloted the Heavy Cruiser with expert precision, the ship and its engines were too badly damaged to comply in the fullest.

Picard listened to the ship's metal groan and strain under the assault, as more of the vessel's shielding grids gave way. He held on tightly to the arms of his chair as he leaned forward slightly. "Mister Data…I believe Captain Blancq did say that when a Cruiser's engines blow, it leaves a two light-year circumference uninhabitable for two solar years?"

Data glanced over his shoulder at Picard. "She did, sir."

Picard looked over his shoulder at the young lieutenant that had taken Troi's place at the communication board. "Notify the Lunar and Mars colonies that they should prepare for immediate evacuation to Earth." As the lieutenant acknowledged the order, Jean-Luc turned forward once more. "Mister Crusher…set a collision course for the center of the cube. Data, what's the shortest span of time for which we can set the self-destruct?"

"Five seconds, sir," Data answered while seated beside him, young Wesley grimly set in the ordered heading.

Picard nodded. "Computer!" The captain said, and the ODC responded with an answering chime. "This is Captain Jean-Luc Picard, serial number UEF-209378-A. Prepare for automatic destruct sequence."

The computer gave off a double-chime. "Picard, Jean-Luc, Captain of _Horizon_. Recognized," the synthesized female voice said, finally sounding more businesslike than sensual. "First officer's name and serial number required for confirmation."

"Captain!" the lieutenant at communications interrupted. "We're receiving a signal, sir—from the _Enterprise_!"

"Computer, standby," Picard said urgently, then gestured to the comm officer. "Let's see it!"

The comm officer tabbed a couple of controls, and the image on the viewscreen changed to that of a dark-haired woman standing on the _Enterprise_ bridge with several other beings—all human, with the exception of one lionoid—behind her. All had Borg implants grown out of their skin to varying degrees, but there was no vapid look in their eyes, as Collective drones usually had. The woman stepped forward, and even with Borg implants grown out of her cheek and partially covering her neck and skin, she was still strikingly beautiful.

"Captain Picard, I presume," she said, and there was the sound of great relief in her voice.

"Commander Christenson, I presume," Picard answered back.

"Yes, Captain. As you can see, the remaining crew here aboard your ship are back to normal." She shook her head at her own statement, then gestured at a couple of the Borg tubes protruding from her shoulder. "Well, sort-of back to normal, mainly."

Picard nodded slowly. "What happened, Commander?"

"From the memories I'm able to piece together from my brief time in the Collective…Captain Rand happened. He found a way to get the Borg to let us go."

"Captain Rand?" Picard said in puzzlement. "I was under the impression you served with your husband, David Christenson."

Mara's eyes were cast to the deck a moment. When she looked back at Picard, there was the pain of a repressed memory, always buried just below the surface, within her eyes. "I did. My husband…David…died a few years ago, in combat above Jupiter. Travis Rand has been in command since then."

Picard was astonished, and finally realized exactly how critical that skirmish above Jupiter had been, and what may or may not have changed in that other universe's history. "My condolences, Commander. However, I'd love to hear how Captain Rand pulled off what amounts to a major miracle. The Borg don't just let people go."

Mara half-smiled. "Captain Rand…'happens' a lot, sir. Finding a way out of no-win scenarios is something of a specialty with him. You'll be able to ask him yourself, though. The troop transport is leaving the Borg ship now, and it's got the Captain and your officers aboard."

"She's right, sir," the security officer at the tactical console said over his shoulder. "It's headed back home to us. What's more, the Borg are moving away."

"Divide the screen…let me see," Picard ordered, wondering if Christmas had somehow managed to make its way early this year. The tactical officer did as instructed, and the image on the viewscreen split with Mara's face to the right, and on the left side, the troop transport was emerging from a fresh portal on the Borg ship as the cube began coming about on a course taking it _away_ from the direction of Earth!

"The cube's course will take it out-system, Captain," Wesley said as he checked the navigational headings. "It's heading on a flight path that should take it back to the Delta Quadrant."

Sure enough, on the left side of the screen, the Borg finished adjusting course. The cube jumped to lightspeed, and was gone from sight in an instant.

Picard sat back in his chair, speechless for a moment. "Well then…let's open the launch bay doors, and see what we can do about tending to the wounded we have on both ships—"

"Oh, pish-tosh, Jean-Luc," a well-known and equally annoying voice said from behind him. Picard jumped out of the command chair and spun around on his heel. The lieutenant at communications was gone, replaced by—

"_Q!_" Picard roared, the deep and abiding anger in his voice rumbling throughout the bridge.

The eternal trickster stood up at the comm board, and was dressed in one of the black UEF uniforms—jacket, shirt, slacks and military boots. "The wounded can wait ten seconds, don't you think? How about some margaritas down in the ship's bar, to celebrate a hard-earned victory?"

"You…_you_--!" Jean-Luc was so incensed, he couldn't even find the proper words to articulate his disgust for this infernal pest, and all he had done.

Q raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Even though I'm immortal, I can't believe I've lived to see the day when _you_ lose all equanimity, Jean-Luc! Of course, the incoherent babbling is indicative of your species, so I guess you can't be blamed for falling into type."

Picard's face was flush with anger. "It wasn't enough for you. You couldn't be content with…with…" he searched for a term, "…_mucking about _in our universe! You just had to go and find some other poor souls in an entirely different reality to throw into your little rat maze!"

"You know, I could have sworn you had a sense of humor at one time, Picard," Q said, a faux disappointment in his voice. "Not much of one, but there was a slight spark. Have you checked the _Horizon_'s files thoroughly enough? Does this ship have a lost and found?"

Picard shook his head in disgust. "_Enough!_ You must return both crews to their respective ships and places at once, Q! I demand you return things to the way they rightfully should be!"

Q 's eyes narrowed. "Let's just remember who's the omnipotent being here, my friend," he said darkly. "Luckily for you, I'm in a good mood today. As for that sense of humor you're lacking, why don't we see if either of the good doctors Crusher or Williams can help you retrieve it." Q raised his hand, snapped his fingers, and in a flash of light—


	8. Chapter 7

**STAR TREK/THE REIGN: HIVE MIND**

Fan fiction Crossover by Lance Berry

CHAPTER 7: THE AVENGERS MEET THE JLA

--which died down almost as immediately as it flared, Picard found himself in the conference room aboard his ship, the _Enterprise_. He was relieved to finally be back aboard his own vessel, but then quickly realized he wasn't alone. Standing on one side of the conference room table was his command staff: Riker, Worf, Troi, Beverly Crusher, Geordi and Data. Standing on the other side, near the windows, was the _Horizon_'s senior staff: Mara Christenson, Tholin, Jamie Hughes, Ben Williams…and the man whom Picard now knew only through the word of the _Horizon_'s first officer, Captain Travis Rand.

Before either captain could say anything, Picard noticed that Riker was patting himself down with some care. "Are you alright, Number One?"

Riker looked at Picard and nodded slowly. "Yes, sir. Five minutes ago though, I was sitting in the transport with Borg implants across half my body. It was more than a bit unnerving. They were in the process of shutting down though…thanks to Captain Rand." He said this last with a grateful nod to the black male standing across the table from them. Rand had also been giving himself a once-over; he was back in uniform, and as far as he can tell, fully intact. The lacerations across his body, inflicted by the Borg Queen's extensive probing, were gone.

Picard began making his way around the table, hand outstretched toward Rand. "Captain, I believe—" he was interrupted by the sound of the ODN activating. "Ensign Crusher to Captain Picard!"

"Yes Ensign, what is it?"

"Sir, I'm back at navigation aboard the bridge. So far, everything seems to be back to normal, and crew personnel and their families are being accounted for. We're receiving a message from Starfleet Command though, sir. They're inquiring as to our status, and want to know the intent of the ship holding position beside us, sir…they're asking about the _Horizon_."

Picard glanced out the window. Earth was visible just outside the far left window. To the right, the forward bow and part of the _Horizon_'s registry could be seen. Picard glanced at Rand and his crew, then said, "Inform Starfleet that we are still checking the _Enterprise_'s status. Let them know the ship beside us…is a friend. Picard out."

As the ODN shut off, Picard extended his hand to Rand once more, and the other captain accepted it. "As I was about to say, Captain Rand…I believe our universe owes you a great debt."

"I appreciate it, Picard," Rand said earnestly. "We had a chance to look over the service histories of you and your crew as well though. I absolutely trust that our universe was in good hands while we were gone." The black man smiled, the first time he could remember smiling in some time.

"We did our best," Picard replied lightly. "And now that we're all back to normal, so to speak, we should figure out a way to get you and your crew home."

"I have a few ideas on that—" Jamie and Geordi both spoke up simultaneously, and several officers on both sides laughed at the jinx. They were interrupted by a bright flash of light at the head of the conference table as Q appeared, now wearing a Starfleet captain's uniform, seated in the lead chair with his feet propped up on the table.

"Oh, this is no fun!" The other-dimensional being said dejectedly. "I wanted to see both crews slug it out for dominance, an ultimate test of courage and will, winner gets both universes! Instead, I come in and find you about to hold hands and start singing 'Kumbaya'. What's next—are you all going to head down to the holodeck to roast marshmallows around a campfire?"

Before anyone could say anything, there was a double flash of light. Q disappeared from the chair and reappeared beside Worf, casually leaning on the Klingon's shoulder and pointing to Tholin across the table. "You know Microbrain," he whispered conspiratorially, "Calvorians just think they're so much fiercer than any other species. You might want to knock him down a peg."

Worf was about to utter something entirely unpleasant to Q, but another double flash took him away from the Klingon and brought him to Tholin's side, where he placed a hand on the Calvorian's shoulder as he pointed to Worf. "You know, Klingons always brag about having you know, bigger…" he made a grasping gesture just below the waistline, "…_you know_..than any other warrior. I think you should show him who's boss."

Another double flash and he was now in between Picard and Rand. "Q, enough of this! What was the point of this entire sick game of yours?" the _Enterprise_'s captain demanded.

"Au contraire, mon capitaine," Q said, wagging a finger at him. "No sick game-player, I." He clapped a friendly hand upon the shoulders of both leaders and addressed both crews. "I was sitting around the Continuum, bored as all get-out one day, when I abruptly realized that I've seen everything there is to see in this universe. I mean, really—once you've driven around IOK-1, it's just old hat. You're going on autopilot by that point." Q turned to Rand, and a big Cheshire Cat grin spread across his face. "Then, I struck upon the idea of playing with different micro-pulsation frequencies, until I found _your_ completely fascinating universe, Captain Rand. So I decided to do a little switcheroo between your two crews, and find out who really has what it takes to save a galaxy in its most dire need." He said this last with over-emphasized dramatic inflection, as ominous organ music played briefly over his words, coming from nowhere at all.

Q removed his hand from Picard's shoulder and placed it flatly upon Rand's chest. "Oh, the wars, the conflicts, the loves won and lost across the ages!" Q glanced back at Picard. "You know, your history paints that Kirk fellow as quite the lothario, but I have to say, he's got _nothing_ on this guy," he said as he patted Rand on the back and turned to face him once more. "Shame about your friend Danielle, but c'est la vie, eh?"

The punch came so fast, that only Data could accurately see it coming from inception to completion, and even then the android had to replay it in his positronic net to be certain he had calculated its speed accurately. All looked on in flat-out astonishment as Rand stood in place, his body shifted only slightly in position, his right fist clenched solidly, while Q hit the floor with a resounding –thud!- Picard had barely stepped out of the way in time to avoid hitting the floor with Q as the imperious being fell backward, and now the _Enterprise_ captain stepped forward to prevent Rand from doing anything even more rash. "Captain, don't—"

Picard had placed both his hands against the younger man's arms in an attempt to keep him away from Q, and it was only with the greatest restraint that Rand didn't turn his fury upon the _Enterprise_'s captain. Instead, he looked over Picard's shoulder and pointed an angry finger at Q as he shouted, "You don't _ever_ get to say her name! Omnipotent or not, you don't have a clue as to what drives humans, and you had no right—NO RIGHT!—to do _anything_ you've done!"

Q didn't so much stand up as he simply levitated to an upright position. He reflexively touched his hand to his lip, although there was no reason; he had no blood flowing through his body—in fact, the body he had constructed was simply a shell for the benefit of the lowly life-forms whose presence he was slumming in, so that their minds wouldn't collapse in on themselves like badly constructed card houses, were they to set sight upon his true magnificence. But this Rand--! Q's fascination had ended immediately with the human's audacity, and his face darkened as he glared at the brash captain.

"You…_dare_…to strike _me_?!" Q spat at him, and raised his hand, prepared to send Rand tumbling to a pit of sulfur and fire far worse than any hell he could ever imagine…

"Q, wait—" Picard said, and threw a hand up in vain protection. The room darkened and all glanced around—including Q. There was a sound like nails being dragged across a chalkboard, yet magnified nearly a thousand times. All the beings in the room—even Data—had to cover their ears. A yell pierced through the keening wail, and through squinting eyes, Picard turned and saw it was _Q_! Q, who was breaking inch by inch from head to toe like cracking glass—and within the fissures, stars and entire galaxies could be seen. All at once, Q flew apart like a window smashed with a hammer…yet the pieces evaporated into nothing almost immediately. The screeching noise stopped all at once, and the conference room lights came back up to normal.

Slowly, tentatively, the senior staffs of both the _Enterprise_ and _Horizon_ uncapped their ears. They looked around in puzzlement, but it was Riker who spoke up first:

"What the hell just happened?"


	9. Epilogue 1: The End

**STAR TREK/THE REIGN: HIVE MIND**

Fan fiction Crossover by Lance Berry

EPILOGUE 1: THE END

"Greetings, Q," a voice which seemed to be neither truly male nor female said aloud. There was a dazzling brilliance all around, which assailed Q's eyes as he squinted to see where he was. The voice that had addressed him strangely seemed to come from everywhere, but Q was somehow certain it had come from straight ahead.

"A moment, Q," the voice spoke again. "It will take but a moment for your senses to adjust to where you are, as the rest of your consciousness reenters the shell you have chosen for yourself."

And as soon as the sentence was spoken, so did it happen: Q felt himself—his will, his intelligence, his _consciousness_—become complete once more. The light dimmed to a level just above what he was used to when visiting the _Enterprise_…but of course, this was not the _Enterprise_. Not by a long shot.

Q found himself in a large chamber, the design being hexagonal in structure. There was what appeared to be moss clinging to most of the grayish-green walls, which stretched at least seventy feet from floor to ceiling. Q looked down, observing that he was still in his Starfleet uniform…and upon further inspection of his surroundings, that he was encircled by several beings from races even he had _never_ seen before. There was a being composed purely of solar matter, as if born from a star. Another with a humanoid upper torso, but the lower half resembled a spider. One that looked like a living porcelain doll, and yet another—well, this one stood at least twenty feet tall, and its body appeared to be made of living moss. Its eyes, which glowed a deep orange, were the only thing visible on its face, which was likewise covered in moss. Yet those eyes carried within them a wearied resignation, as if it too had seen all there was to see.

One Amazonian female, one of only two remotely pure humanoids in the group, stood eight feet tall, yet her body was lithely slender, like a dancer. The other more humanoid one was a pale-skinned male whose body—according to Q's keen senses—was composed of pure tachyon energy, along with several multi-quantum energies. It was this being that had spoken to Q in that odd hybrid voice, and who moved toward him now.

"Stay back," Q said menacingly as he raised a hand, fully prepared to obliterate any or all of these beings, should they have hostile intent. "I don't want to harm you, but I'll have no compunction against it, if forced."

The male—whose body glowed ethereally with pulsing energies all around it—simply smiled and shrugged slightly. "You cannot harm us Q, no more than you can leave unless we permit it. Your powers are not permitted to work here."

"Oh, really…?" Q said, not trusting this being for a second. His power was intact, he could _feel_ his energies residing within!

"Yes, really," the glowing male said, as if Q had simply asked him for the time, then begged him to recheck his watch. "I gave up foibles such as lying millennia ago, when I passed beyond the realm of mortal life. But should you wish a demonstration, then by all means…try to turn me into a butterfly."

"I'll turn you into a Regulan blood worm instead, and then make my choice whether your friends should share your fate," Q said, then willed his power outward…and felt his jaw drop as absolutely _nothing_ happened! He drew his hand back, staring at it in disbelief, then gestured again, concentrating harder this time—with exactly the same null effect.

"As I said, Q," the being explained calmly, "your powers are not permitted to work here. We are collectively known as the Elder Races. Welcome to _our_ reality…the one we share with Travis Rand and the other forms of life in this universe."

Q lowered his hand and took stock of the other beings. He turned his senses inward briefly, then said, "I see now. It's taking your collective will to keep me here. Well, if you're thinking of holding me for some kind of ransom or games mister-sister, let me tell you; when the Q Continuum hears about this—and they _will_—"

The chamber shook as the twenty foot tall behemoth stomped his foot beside Q, almost knocking him off balance. The moss-creature had been a good twelve feet away, but only one miniature stride, and his foot had almost crushed Q right out of existence! The creature bent low, bringing its orange glare level with Q, its eyes burning with anger as it spoke in an unintelligible yet unmistakably belligerent series of grumbles and growls which made the entire floor vibrate with its powerful treble.

When it finished, the porcelain-looking alien glided forward, gently rubbing its glass-smooth hand across the moss-thing's ankle. "This is one of the Unnamable Ones, Q," she thought at him more than spoke, since its voice was decidedly feminine, and her mouth didn't move. "It is his will that holds you here. And he is right: the Continuum will not interfere. We have had discussions with them, you see, the moment we became aware of your tampering with the flow of this universe's history. The Continuum has said that we are to deal with you as we see fit."

Q rolled his eyes in annoyance and looked up at the ceiling. "You betraying old biddies!" he yelled, and felt within himself that the Continuum members had heard him clearly…and were laughing at him.

He looked back at the beings. "So, what…? Are you going to execute me now, or make me your slave for all eternity, or some other pedestrian nonsense like that?"

The glowing male approached Q, standing only a foot away from him. Q wasn't sure exactly what it was, but there was something about the being's proximity that was…calming. "Of course not, Q," he said in his hybrid voice. "We have evolved over a period of billions of years. We never have, and do not now, carry out executions. Once, we used our powers to nurture young worlds. But we finally came to realize that this universe no longer needs our help directly, so we serve as protectors. Waiting until the day when the Great Darkness is finally dispelled, and we can leave our custodianship behind."

"Great Darkness?" Q repeated, his interest suddenly piqued.

"We cannot reveal all to you, Q," the being said. "But in your universe, there have been certain mortals—certain _humans_, in fact—who have unquestionably saved all of reality at one point or another. Archer. Kirk. Garrett. Picard. These and a select few others have acted in ways which not even the Continuum could have foreseen, and elevated the status of humanity to a degree where even you had to take note. Otherwise, you would never have sought out Picard and his crew at Farpoint station."

Q crossed his arms defiantly. How dare this being put so much stock in a race of babbling asylum inmates, who had barely learned how to create fire before they went zipping around the galaxy in their tinker-toy starships! "I might have heard of Garrett. Kirk certainly rings a bell. And I only visit Picard because I get a kick out of polishing my shoes in the reflection from his bald head!"

The Unnamable One grunted deeply and turned away, waving his hand dismissively at Q. The porcelain-thing chased after it, attempting to reason with it to stay, and calling it "my love". At these last two words, Q's eyes widened and he shuddered in disgust. "Either she's able to grow to his size, or she must be the most flexible woman in _any_ reality!"

The glowing male smiled and shook his head reprovingly. "Your brash nature betrays you, Q. You are intrigued by my words, I know. The secret you sought is before you. For just as Picard is important to you, moreso is Travis Rand to us."

Q laughed contemptuously. "Picard—important to me? My dear, deluded man-babe…they must serve some serious hooch where you come from, if you think I could ever consider Picard important. The man's a footnote in my life, an asterisk to an asterisk! He's a source of amusement for me…nothing more!"

"Really?"

There was something in the way he said that word, something Q didn't like. It was if he had looked straight into Q's very being, and was seeing a truth denied, kept hidden. Q's face darkened in anger at the intrusion, and he narrowed his eyes defiantly. "Really."

The glowing male nodded slowly. "You have always claimed to be a seeker of truth, Q. Then the time has come for you to learn the ultimate truth. And in so doing, perhaps see why tampering with our universe was the absolute worst thing you could have done." The male's hand shot out, landing on Q's shoulder. Before Q could protest, he found himself held immobile as tachyons and other exotic energies exploded forth from the male's body, engulfing them both in an ever increasing yellow light which then burned bright white, and then--

The light subsided. Q blinked in surprise, to find they were in a room of some type. There was a window nearby, and Q took a quick glance at the architecture of the buildings outside. "Earth," he said with a sigh, then looked at the being. "One of the least exotic places in the galaxy to visit. If you had to pull me somewhere, why not Risa, or even Vulcan? Even though it's not much more than a dirtball, the Vulcans have _some_ character to them."

"You and the Continuum have looked into mankind's future on occasion," the alien said. "It's the reason you once offered Riker a chance to join you, in order to find the necessary spark within you to grow once more. When I show others the future, it is for more…personal revelations." He pointed behind Q, who turned around. For a being who had only recently bragged that he had "seen everything there is to see" in the universe, he was quite surprised to find that the minutest of gasps slipped past his lips.

Jean-Luc Picard lay in a bed, a bio-readout machine attached to its metal railing. But this was hardly the Jean-Luc that Q knew: he was older—much older, with wrinkled, well-worn skin sagging on his hands, and cheekbones that were frighteningly visible beneath the barely recognizable façade of his face. His eyes were closed and he was breathing shallowly…far too shallowly, for Q's liking. Q was astonished to realize that if he hadn't taken note of Picard's unique aura, that he might not have recognized him at first glance. Q looked around at the darkened room, and began to hear voices drifting from down the hall, now understanding that they were in a hospital room.

"Jean-Luc--?" Q said, his arrogance and posturing abruptly dispersed. He took a step forward, but the being placed a hand on his shoulder, gently holding him back. "He can't hear you, Q. It's not permitted. I'm sorry."

Q turned around, violently tossing the alien's hand off his shoulder. "I want to talk to him!" He demanded, his face actually reddened at the fact that he could _feel_ his power coursing through him, but was unable to will it into actualization. If he had, he would have turned him into a Tukuvian slug-worm and stepped on him immediately.

For his part, the being remained absolutely calm, and a knowing smile appeared on his face. "And so you shall speak to him," he said and gestured to the room's entry door. Q turned and saw it was closing softly, quietly, as if guided by an unseen hand. The being to whom the hand belonged slowly faded into view, so as not to startle Picard. It was _Q_—the Q of now, of this time(whenever this time was), dressed in nothing more than a simple pants and shirt. He stopped beside the bed and took a look at the readout. This Q frowned slightly, then turned to look at Picard. An almost insubstantial, wistful smile appeared on this Q's face and a chair faded into existence quietly…again, so as not to startle Picard.

Q—the Q that had been forcibly brought here—turned angrily to the being. "What is this? I'm the one who carves reality out of clay, you're stealing my act! Let me assure you my friend, I'm in no mood for games—"

"No games," the being said calmly, and nodded toward the current Q. "And even with his advanced senses, he cannot see us. Watch, Q…watch and learn your lesson."

Q didn't appreciate being spoken to as if he were a child. Nonetheless, he turned back to the tableau before them and crossed his arms impatiently as he watched. The current Q, of this time, sat down in the chair he had formed from nothingness, and placed his hand gently on the bed, beside Picard's. "Jean-Luc…" he said softly, and Picard's eyes fluttered open immediately. He turned his head slowly toward the sound of the voice, and when Picard spoke, his own voice had the sound of withered husk, dried leaves, so fragile they might break apart when blown about by a strong wind. "W-who's there…?"

The current Q took Picard's hand in his own, and the spark of light and lucidity returned to Picard's eyes at the same time as his sight. He blinked at Q, finally recognizing him. "Q…how are you, old friend?" he said, barely able to form a smile.

"I'm doing well, Jean-Luc," he answered, and for a moment, his voice seemed on the verge of trembling. It was only a moment though, and quickly passed.

"You said you would visit me…before the end," Picard said, and had to take a moment to regain his breath. The act of speaking took a lot out of him these days. "So…I guess I'm not long for this world?"

Q glanced at the readout, then shook his head as he looked at Picard once more. "Minutes, at best. I just came to say good-bye. What would my life be, if I didn't get to needle you one more time?"

Picard chuckled at this, but the chuckle turned quickly into a mild coughing spell. A glass of water with a straw in it appeared in Q's free hand, and he reached behind the back of Picard's head, lifting him gently, close enough to it so that he could take a sip. It helped, and after a moment, Q laid him back down and the glass vanished from his hand. Q sighed lightly. "It pains me to see you like this, Jean-Luc. If I had my way, I'd transport you to a place where you could have marvelous adventures with your old crew forever and ever…I'd even let ol' Microbrain Worf join you, if it be your desire." He glanced down at the floor a moment. "Of course, I've come to realize after all these years, that there are some things in the universe…just some, mind you…that even I have no control over."

It took some effort on Picard's part, but he managed to squeeze Q's hand firmly, bringing his attention back to him. "It's alright, my friend," Picard wheezed. "There's no sense to me living in the past. The old glories have come and gone, and I've outlived the majority of my old crew. Now all that's left is to join Beverly once more, and I'll be content."

"Sentimental nonsense," the Q that had been forcibly brought here said, but had to clear his throat lightly to relieve the tightness he felt in it. He glanced over his shoulder at the being that had kidnapped him. "What is this, a dinner theater performance of A Christmas Carol, with you as the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come?"

The being said nothing. He just smiled that annoyingly smug smile, as if he had gained some great new insight into Q that Q himself did not possess. Q couldn't stand looking at that grin, so he turned back to watch Picard and the other him chat it up like a couple of old grandmas.

The current Q nodded slowly. He looked away a moment, then looked back. "They launched the _Enterprise_-G today," he said abruptly, eager to change the conversation. "I can show it to you, if you like."

Picard smiled again. "That won't be necessary, but thank you. I've served my time in Starfleet…I'm content to let them go on without me." He exhaled lightly, and the readout of his heart activity slowed just a bit. "How far we've come, you and I," Picard said wistfully. "We hated each other so much back then, didn't we?"

"I never hated you, Jean-Luc," the current Q said honestly. "Although I always gave you good reason to feel that way about me. For that, I'm truly sorry."

Picard squeezed his hand again. "I've said this before, Q…you can move past that now. What you did for me and my crew…at the end of the Second Romulan War…I've forgiven you, my friend. Now, you must forgive yourself."

Q nodded. "I know. It's just that…my mind often goes back to Ventoxia IX, and what you did for me. I guess the Romulan War thing was just…change owed to you. But you showed me a lot back then on Ventoxia, and I've never forgotten it." Q frowned severely, and found he had to look away so Jean-Luc could not see the expression of sorrow in his eyes.

"Q…" Picard said, his voice weaker, "I remember…when my artificial heart was damaged. You pretended to be…God. I never asked before, but now…I need to. Will I see…Beverly, our son Will…Geordi…and all the others again?"

The current Q turned back, his throat constricting a moment. He exhaled lightly and shook his head. "I honestly don't know, Jean-Luc. I'm sorry to tell you that what lies beyond this realm remains a mystery, even to the Continuum. We can…_sense_…that something lies beyond all that we know, but even we can't push through the barrier between what is this reality, and that which is beyond." He leaned close, and whispered in Picard's ear, "But I have to tell you, Jean-Luc…the fact the barrier even exists, and keeps _us_ out, is a source of secret joy within the Continuum. No, I don't know if you'll see Beverly and your son again…but I _believe_ you will."

That seemed to be enough for Picard. He smiled, tears forming at the edges of his eyes, and said, "You've been a good friend, Q. I told you that one day you'd come around."

The current Q sat back, a look of indignation on his face. "Now here I am, coming to pay respects, and you have the gall to insult me one last time! You're lucky the Borg don't exist anymore…I'd send you right to their home world!"

"You would too, you bastard," Picard said with a chuckle, and the two laughed together for a good few minutes before the coughing spell beset the former captain once more. Another glass of water materialized in Q's hand, but Picard waved him off. The coughing spell ended quickly, and Picard exhaled heavily. The glass vanished, and Q now took his friend's hand in both of his. "I'm going to miss you, Jean-Luc. I've never met a nobler being in all my existence. I'm fairly sure I won't meet another."

"Thank you…" Picard said, and closed his eyes. His chest rose and fell only a few more times, then was still. The indicators on the readout monitor flatlined, and a dull whine initiated from the machine. Q stood, his eyes focused intently on something. His eyes widened, and his head moved slowly, looking upward, then turning in the direction of the window—looking past his former self and the being, whom he couldn't see—watching something that couldn't be seen, moving out of the room. He moved swiftly to the window, and looked up at the stars. "Au revoir, mon Capitaine," he said, then glanced at the door as the sound of rushing feet approached the room. With no grand gestures, no snapping of fingers, no flash of light…Q simply faded away.

The Q that had been brought here swiped at his own eye with the heel of his palm. "This is absurd!" he said quietly. "How can a mere human…how could _anyone_…make me think I have something in my eye? I'm omnipotent—I don't get things in my eyes!"

"But there is nothing mere about your friend, is there?" the being stated simply. Q finished rubbing his eyes and turned angrily toward him—only to find they were no longer in the hospital room, but standing among the stars. Q was about to say something belligerent to the alien, when he noticed the being was staring at something behind Q…and for the first time, Q noticed a distinct look of unease set itself upon the being's face.

Q turned to see a massive object approaching. It appeared to be an asteroid, but it had engines set upon it, pushing it forward. There were three massive geodesic domes atop its surface, and Q was barely able to make out structures inside them. Q attempted to look more deeply into the domes, through them, but found his vision blocked. The being stood beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Do not look too closely, Q," he warned. "We are back in my universe now, and even my powers cannot fully shield us from _his_ senses."

Q raised an eyebrow, intrigued that someone who could still _his_ powers would actually be fearful around another. "And whom might this be? Sounds like an interesting fellow, if you ask me."

The look the being gave him made Q fall silent, surprised. The being pointed to the asteroid-world, which was beginning to move past them at nearly lightspeed. "This is the reason why Travis Rand exists. We have waited since very nearly the birth of our universe for Travis to come into being in order to combat _him_. It is Travis' destiny to face him, although he doesn't fully know it yet. By tampering with our timeline, you could have unraveled eons of delicate planning. Liken our universe to a set of meticulously placed dominoes. Topple one piece, and everything comes crashing down. That was the point of showing you Picard's future, Q—his is supposed to be an irrevocable destiny. Just as Picard has value in your heart—whether you care to admit to it is inconsequential—so too does Travis Rand have value to us, though for different reasons."

Q looked to the asteroid-world. It had passed them, and seemed to be moving with great purpose. "Why not give me my abilities back? If whoever this is is such a threat to you, all I have to do is—" he raised his hand and snapped his fingers in example. The being shook his head. "It is the will of the Unnamable One that binds your powers inward. Ages ago, we came to realize that even if all the Elder Races combated this one," he said with a nod to the passing asteroid-world, "there would be no sure outcome to who would claim victory. Now, imagine if a being with that power were somehow able to gain control of yours…?"

Q was intrigued, but as he looked at the passing asteroid-planet once again, the words his future self had spoken to Picard came back to him: _I've come to realize after all these years, that there are some things in the universe…just some, mind you…that even I have no control over. _Q turned back to the being. "Points taken…all of them," he said, and was surprised at the sound of earnest humility in his voice. The sight of Picard, withered and frail, had gotten to him more than he cared to admit. Q hadn't had a chance to explore this universe as fully as he might have liked, before he caught sight of the _Horizon_ and its crew. There were too many unknown variables, as of yet. Still…

"If the time comes when you need help with that," Q said with a nod back to the asteroid-ship, which was swiftly receding into the distance, "you know where to find me."

The being bowed slightly in gratitude. "The offer is appreciated. But what is needed now, is your word that you will not interfere with the workings of this universe again. Travis Rand, the people placed aboard his ship to serve with him, the events in their lives which brought them together…things have been set far too delicately into place for the balance to be upset."

Q nodded in understanding. "You have my word, sir. And a Q always keeps their word."


	10. Epilogue 2: These Are The Voyages

**STAR TREK/THE REIGN: HIVE MIND**

Fan fiction Crossover by Lance Berry

EPILOGUE 2: THESE ARE THE VOYAGES…

"And so, by focusing a concentration of EM pulses through the _Enterprise_'s deflector dish, in conjunction with the gravimetric tunneling beam the _Horizon_ employs, at this point right here," Geordi La Forge was saying as he pointed to the LaGrange Point between Earth and its moon, which was displayed on the viewscreen in the conference room, "the vibrational frequency of the micro-pulsations will match that of the _Horizon_'s universe, and Captain Rand will be able to take his crew home."

The senior staffs of both the _Horizon_ and _Enterprise_ were situated around the conference table aboard the Federation flagship, as extra chairs had been brought in for their guests. Captain Picard sat forward at the head of the table, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. He pointed at the viewscreen. "But what about the time-shift? If the _Horizon_ goes through, won't they be entering the 24th Century of their universe? They'll be displaced out of their own time."

"We've thought about that, Captain Picard," Jamie Hughes said, as she stood on the other side of the screen, opposite Geordi. "We can program in the time-stamp from our own computer's smartware system into the Enterprise's computer. With that knowledge, the micro-pulsation frequencies will be adjusted properly to not only allow us to return to our own universe, but our own time as well." She looked at Captain Rand, seated immediately to Picard's left. "Heck, we should be able to get back to our own time perhaps less than a few hours after Q started messing with everything."

Travis Rand nodded approvingly. "Well done, Jamie. You too, Mr. La Forge."

"Thank you, Captain," Geordi replied, then looked to Picard. "And Captain…we'd like Data to assist in the technical linkup between the two ships' computers. It'll go faster with him involved."

"Make it so," Picard affirmed. "In the meantime, Captain Rand…once our officers get this task completed, I'd like to extend an invitation to you and your senior staff to enjoy a state dinner with us before you go. I think we have some fascinating notes to compare."

"We look forward to it, Captain," Rand answered and offered his hand, which Picard accepted. Once the meeting ended, various members of the senior staffs broke up into small groups and the _Horizon_'s was given a partial tour of the _Enterprise_ as the Federation flagship and her other-universal counterpart made their way at sublight speed toward the La Grange Point. Riker and Troi took Mara to Ten-Forward, where Guinan served drinks while the three officers compared notes on their disparate realities. Tholin and Worf discussed the various battles they had been involved in, and each came to have more respect for the other…particularly when they discussed the difficulties in working with humans.

Jamie and Geordi worked an uplink to the _Horizon_'s computer from engineering, while Data worked at the engineering station at the bridge's rear, programming in all the variables that needed to be accounted for if their plan was to succeed. Beverly took Ben Williams on a tour of sickbay, and was secretly pleased that the man was impressed with Starfleet Medical's accomplishments. She had dealt so often with colleagues in her profession, it was nice to be able to just "talk shop" with someone who could appreciate all the hard work that went into the development of various vaccines and other medicines that saved lives.

Captains Picard and Rand stayed in the ready room, where the former served hot Earl Grey to his guest, and the two men compared notes about their lives in command. "I hope you don't mind, Captain, but I did ask Commander Christenson a bit about your history with the United Earth Force. I was very impressed. In a historical context, you remind me somewhat of a young James T. Kirk. He was captain of the first _Enterprise_, and a revered figure in Federation history."

"I appreciate the compliment, Captain," Rand said humbly. "I was nosy about you too, when we first came aboard this ship. You remind me of David Christenson. He had a quiet dignity about him, which people didn't appreciate enough until he was gone, in my opinion. And it's Travis, to my friends."

"Appreciated, Travis. And it's Jean-Luc."

Travis nodded. "I gotta tell you, this ship is very impressive. I was actually very disappointed to find out this wasn't our future my crew and I had arrived in."

Picard took a small sip of his tea. "Who knows, Captain? It very well may be, one day. History takes time to be forged properly. From what Commander Christenson said, you and your crew seem to have the hammer and anvil poised already."

It only took a couple of hours for the preparations to be checked and rechecked. Once Geordi, Jamie and Data were done, Captain Picard and his crew hosted a state dinner in full dress uniform for the _Horizon_'s senior staff. There were various Earth delicacies served, as well as some Klingon ones which Worf insisted that Tholin try. Although Calvorian stomachs didn't carry the proper enzymes which allowed them to eat cooked food, Tholin took a special liking to the live gagh.

Finally, Picard and his officers led the command crew of the _Horizon_ to the transporter room, where Chief O'Brien stood by, anxious to finally get his first view of humans from another universe. He wasn't as impressed as he thought he would be…although he had to admit, the Calvorian was one of the most intimidating lionoids he had ever seen in his life.

Picard and Riker instructed Rand and his crew where to properly stand on the transporter pads, the former telling them, "You'll feel a brief tingling sensation, and perhaps a moment's disorientation at best when you reappear on your ship's bridge. Transporting is almost always an unnerving experience the first time."

"No worries, Jean-Luc. Thanks for everything," Rand said easily.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Captain." Picard thought about it, then raised his hand in the Vulcan salute. "May you and your crew live long and prosper."

Rand looked at the way Picard's fingers were splayed, and then emulated it perfectly. "Thanks. The same to you and yours," he replied. Picard nodded and looked at O'Brien. "Energize."

Rand observed as the curly-haired officer at the controls worked his console with easy familiarity. He'd obviously done this dozens of times before. Rand squinted in some surprise as the lights seemed to play tricks with his eyes, and as he was caught up in the transportation matrix, it felt as if his entire body was being pricked lightly yet painlessly all over. The light show ceased, and all of a sudden, he was back on the _Horizon_'s bridge.

"Wow," someone said behind him. He turned and saw Lieutenant Johnson, one of the junior officers hand-picked to replace members of the senior staff at a moment's notice, slowly rising from the center seat as he looked at the captain and senior staff in awe.

Rand couldn't help it; he patted himself down, giving a cursory once-over to his condition, then looked back at Johnson. "I share the sentiment, Lieutenant." He looked at Mara and his other officers. "Alright…let's get outta here."

"The _Horizon_ is signaling that they're ready to begin, Captain," Worf said from his security console. Picard, now back in his rightful chair, sat back and cleared his throat lightly. "Signal Captain Rand that we stand ready as well. Bridge to engineering. Mister La Forge, begin EM pulses."

"Aye, sir," Geordi replied over the ODN. Down in engineering, he began working the master control console, sending out the heightened EM pulses toward the predetermined point in space. As he worked, he glanced around briefly at the other crewmen at their stations. He shook his head, amazed at the thought that only hours earlier, the _Enterprise_ had been completely assimilated by the Borg. He didn't like the thought of that. But with Q finally revealing himself to both crews, with a snap of his fingers, the mercurial being returned both ships to normal all at once. As he always did in their dealings with Q, Geordi couldn't help but wonder how someone with such amazing abilities could treat the lives of others with such capricious disdain.

On the bridge, Captain Picard watched as the invisible pulses from the _Enterprise_'s deflector dish collided with the unseen gravimetric beam from the _Horizon_'s own deflectors, to slowly form a unique tear in space. The tear grew rapidly, yet it appeared that the stars visible through the tear were simply the same familiar ones Picard would have seen had the tear not been there at all. "Data, is this working?"

At the helm console, Data quickly rechecked his readings. "It is working as expected, Captain. Reading micro-pulsations unique to that of the universe where the _Horizon_ hails from. The stars that are visible within the breach are the stars in that universe. They simply happen to occupy the exact same position as our stars, only on a different vibrational level."

"I see," Picard replied, trusting to place his faith in the usually infallible android. A beep issued from the navigational console, and Wesley announced, "Captain, the _Horizon_ has begun moving toward the breach." Only seconds after Wesley's statement, the _Horizon_ came into view on the screen, quickly moving forward toward the widening tear.

"Picard to engineering. Geordi, the _Horizon_ is entering the portal. Be certain to keep the EM pulses flowing."

"I'm on it, Captain," the engineer's confident response came back via the ODN. On the viewscreen, the _Horizon_ had begun entering the breach. It pressed forward, diving in fully, and then without the Heavy Cruiser's deflectors to match the _Enterprise_'s output, the breach rapidly closed behind the UEF ship, disappearing entirely.

"Good luck to you, Captain," Picard said under his breath. He sensed movement to his left, and turned to see Q in full Starfleet regalia, crouched beside him. "Did I miss anything?" he said impishly.

Picard, Riker and Troi were on their feet immediately. "Q! Where the devil have you been, and why are you back?"

"I'd answer both questions for you, Jean-Luc, but I don't want to overload your tiny little primate brain," Q said as he got to his feet, but the jibe was only half-hearted. He glanced around the bridge, looking at Picard, Riker, Data and the others…even Worf…and was beginning to see them in a slightly new light. Picard picked up on this and said cautiously, "What is it, Q? It didn't seem like you left us voluntarily before. Was it the other members of the Q Continuum? Are they upset at you? What happened?"

Picard was puzzled to find Q looking at him so oddly, almost as if he had missed him. But then the being straightened his back and declared, "I told you, Picard: only one question at a time. Unfortunately, I'm not exactly predisposed to tell you what happened…only what's going to happen."

Picard looked at him warily. "What's going to happen? What are you up to now?"

"I made a promise to someone recently, and as I'm bound by my word, I intend to keep it. Unfortunately for you, that means I can't let you remember anything that's happened in the past day or so. I also have to place you back to exactly where you were, which means you're about to experience one of the more traumatic things that will happen to you in your life." He paused, then added almost as a guilty afterthought, "I'm sorry."

Picard was all prepared to chew him out for toying with the lives of himself and his crew—yet again—but the unexpected apology froze him in place a moment, unable to say anything. He and Riker exchanged looks of bafflement, but Picard quickly regained from the shock. "Now look here, Q…you simply cannot continue to come into our lives and—"

But Q snapped his fingers, and the familiar bright flash of light overwhelmed Picard and everyone else on the bridge. When the flash subsided, he was sitting in his chair as usual, but looked around in puzzlement. Everything on the bridge was normal: Data and Wesley Crusher were at helm and navigation respectively. Counselor Troi sat on his left, Will Riker to his right. He turned and looked behind him, only to see Worf at the tactical console as he should have been.

"Captain?"

Picard turned forward in his seat, then looked to see Troi watching him with some concern. "Are you alright, sir?"

Picard considered the question a moment, but then nodded, although a bit uncertain. "I just feel as if there's something I forgot to do, Counselor. Something I should be remembering, but can't." He mulled it over a moment, then shrugged. "It couldn't have been that important."

Troi smiled. "Of course not, sir." As she turned forward, Picard glanced at the deep blue planet above which the _Enterprise_ was pulling into orbit. There was something he did need to do, right now…he tabbed a panel on his chair's armrest. "Captain's Log, stardate 43989.1. The _Enterprise_ has arrived at Jouret IV, in response to a distress signal from one of the Federation's outermost colonies."

He tabbed the panel again, shutting off the log. Picard exhaled lightly and looked to Riker. "Number One, assemble an Away Team. Take a look planetside, and be careful."

"Aye, sir," Riker said as he got to his feet. "Worf, Data, you're with me. Riker to engineering," he said as he headed up the ramp toward the lift, Data following closely behind him, "Geordi, meet me in transporter room one. We're heading down to the New Providence colony."

"Acknowledged, Commander," Geordi answered over the comm, as Riker and his two officers entered the turbolift, the doors closing behind them. Picard looked at the blue ball spinning serenely on the viewscreen. For reasons which he couldn't understand, he had to suppress a shudder…

The nondenominational chapel on deck 29 could hold up to 250 members of the _Horizon_'s crew at any one time, but cleaning it was usually a one-person job. Devon Bova, the Diviner(priest) assigned to the UEF Heavy Cruiser, was in the process of wiping some dust off one of the faux stained glass windows when the doors at the far end opened and Travis Rand entered. Bova folded his rag neatly and moved to the center of the main aisle between the pews as Rand approached. "No guards, Captain? No shackles? It seems the only time you come here is when it's to toss me in the brig."

Rand came to a halt only a couple feet from the slightly older man, who had some light grey beginning to show in his dark hair and beard. "I just came to talk today, Diviner. I left the keys for the brig in my other pants."

Bova raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. He gestured to one of the pews, and the captain took a seat. Bova moved into the pew before his, but leaned against the railing instead. He was determined to show Rand that it was he who held the true power on this ground. "What can I do for you, Captain?"

Rand thought carefully for a moment, then said, "I'm not apologizing for throwing you in the brig. You interfered in what was a United Earth Force matter, far as I'm concerned. Conversely, I'm not expecting an apology from you either. You're a man of firm convictions, and I can respect that. I can understand _why_ you did what you did, giving that boy sanctuary, even if I don't agree with it. So what I'm saying is, I guess we'll agree to disagree…this one time."

"This one time," Bova repeated.

Rand nodded. "Do it again, and the NCA is gonna have a lot of questions as to what happened to their missing Diviner." The tone was light, but Bova knew Rand wasn't altogether joking about it. He didn't think Rand would ever go so far as to space him, but the point was well made.

"Well, all veiled threats aside, Captain…what can I do for you?" Bova said again. Part of his training as a Diviner was in the field of clinical psychology. One had to understand people's motivations for their sins, in order to help them more assuredly. Bova knew how Rand felt about the aid he had given to the Calvorian youth, Thara, and the captain wasn't one to repeat himself. Bova was also aware the beginning of their discussion was a mere preamble to get to the real matter. Rand rested his arms on the back of the pew in front of him, clasping his fingers together as he leaned forward. "With everything that's happened over the past twenty-four hours…the revelation of another universe existing beside ours, the crew being assimilated by the Borg, and their 'salvation' through Q…well, I guess I just wanted to have a sort of philosophical chat with you."

Bova bowed his head slightly. "Yes. We've all seen the face of evil today, and even one who finally acted out of a type of benevolence wasn't much better." Bova glanced behind him, past the altar covered in white drapery, to the large silver infinity symbol which hung on the wall behind the altar. The symbol stood for the never-ending infinity of the All, and the universe in which this abiding power—referred to as God in so many Earth religions—resided in all of its mysterious providence.

Bova looked back at Rand. "Days like today do press even my faith to the brink, Captain. However, I manage to maintain it because of the proof I've seen within my own life, of the existence of something greater, someone looking out for us, especially in the times when we may think we don't _need_ someone looking out for us. But what about you, Captain? I've always been curious as to why you don't believe…in God, Yahweh, Allah, Vishnu, what have you. Why don't you believe?"

Rand exhaled. "It's a long story, Diviner."

Bova chuckled lightly and smiled. "You're on my turf, Captain. I have all the time in the world to listen…"

_Space. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise. Its continuing mission: To explore strange, new worlds. To seek out new life and new civilizations. To boldly go where no one has gone before!_

–_Captain Picard_

_This is the way the story began; with the end of a long war and the hope for a lasting peace. This was the year we made enemies into allies and set the stage for a new era of peace to begin. This is the tale of how the human race began to stake its claim among the stars. This is the tale of—The Reign. _

–_Travis Rand_


End file.
